LIBRARY OF COMItESS. 



i 



#t,ira|). 









I UNITED STATES OP 



AMERICA, 



f 



A SCO 



[a CUBAN TALK, 



AND O T FI E R POEMS. 



R. -j^UTLAND MaNNEI^S. 



• Aimer le vrai, le baau ; cheicher leur harmonic, 
Ecouter dans son choeur I'tcho de son genie ; 
Chanter, rire, pleurer, sans but, au hasard, 
D'un sourire, d' un mot, d' un soupire, d' un regard." 

—De Musscf. 

La Pocsie. 



J\:D, 



Printed FOR fHE Author. 



[}^]i 










Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by the 
Author, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D.C. 



CONTENTS 



Introductory Note 3 

Pasco, 

A Cuban tale 5 

^PRING, 

An Idyl 38 

Monody 

On the death of Chatterton 45 

^Retrospection . . 50 

A Pream : 

Sea pictures 5^ 

Sonnets : 

The Crucifixion 63 

My Mother 64 

Solitude 65 

Music ... 66 

Licet 67 

Dolores 68 

Meditation 69 



2 

Odds and ^nds: 

I^ove and Dignity — Aft Allegory 73 

Music and Memory 76 

Lines — Written at Arlingtoft Cejnetery 77 

A Vision 79 

Quand Meme 85 

Adieu 87 

In Memoriam 89 

The Moon , 90 

Church Litany {versified) 92 

Sweet Flower 94 

To my Bird 95 

A Fragment 97 

A Thought 98 

Love in Absence — Spanish Proverb 100 

Lines in an Album, I, II, III loi 

The same, I, II • • • • 102 

Stanza, from the French 102 

Love to the Mirror 103 

Epigrams, I, II 103 

Friendship 104 

When First I Met Thee 105 

Song 106 

To Felise 107 

^RRATA. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 



In deciding to commit the within collection to covers^ so far was 
it from my original intention to present myself as an aspirant for 
public favor, that I had allowed this Note, as first drafted, to be 
printed off /;//<?;///, with the statement that I did "not appear in the 
role of a candidate for public patronage ; " explaining therein that I 
had caused my poems to be placed in this form, as a "matter of 
gratification to those of my friends, who had ' solicited ' me so to do," — 
and to myself. 

Having determined to appear for judgment, may I here have 
leave to state, as a consideration to be borne in mind by those into 
whose hands this little volume may fall, that its contents are the pro- 
duction of the spare hours which have remained to me, from day to 
day, after business duties, for under these most unfavorable circum- 
stances have they, indeed, all been written. 

While, as has been said, *"a book, to the reader, be not worse 
or better for the circumstances under which its author has produced it," 
I would humbly submit, to continue to quote the same learned Writer, 
that ' * to rightly estimate any man's performance, it must be compared 
with his own particular opportunities, * * * to know how much is 
to be ascribed to native ability and how much to adventitious help." It 
is in this latter view, that I presume to advance the, above palliative ; 
and I cannot but feel that it is only necessary for me to plead a disad- 
* Dr. Johnson. 



vantage so superlatively great, to have a liberal allowance made there- 
for. While I do not hesitate to state that it is with no ordinary 
degree of solicitude that I thus venture to intrude myself upon public 
notice, I am not without hope of success. To confess this, were to 
admit that I had offered the public that which I knew to be worthless. 
Should I fail, however, the consciousness that I have lost in an under- 
taking, pursued under every conceivable disadvantage, will deprive 
disappointment of its sting. 

In varying the order of the rhyme, in the opening poem, from the 
couplet and alternate to the quatrain, — and in one or two instances be- 
coming an absolute "apostate from poetic rule " by breaking the liiie 
short, I have done so to avoid that monotony which results from too 
close an adherence to any one form, changing the versification from the 
heroic to octosyllabic, etc., as the respective styles seemed best adapted 
to the different shadings of the narrative. 

As to originality, while I have not knowingly reproduced the 
thought of another without acknowledging the same, I cannot flatter 
myself that the one or two instances where I do thus credit an appro- 
priated thought, are the only cases where my lines reflect ideas original 
in others. 

Thus do I commit my cause to those before whom I here bring my- 
self to judgment, feeling assured that whatever merit my lines may 
possess will be liberally allowed. 



PASCO. 



[a CUBAN TALE.] 



Blue roll the waves that lave the southern isles 
And crested fall along their coral strands, 
Beneath a sky where endless summer smiles 
And wreathes in blossoms those celestial lands. 
The orange there in rich luxuriance spread 
Their yellow wealth along the palm-girt plains 
With which the citron-blooms and jessamines* 
Upon the air their sweet aromas shed. 
And there the sun illumes the bluest sky 
That e'er was mirrored in the glassy sea, 
Edging with tints of pink transparency 
Those waves that lisp their languid m.instrelsy 
To slumbering shells, which murmur in their sleep, 
Soothed by the whispers of the fondUng deep. 
And from those shores in sullen grandeur rise 
Unmeasured heights of pathless mountain steep. 
Rearing their heads majestic towards the skies. 
As in the clouds their hoary summits sleep, 
— While with the bridal of the virgin sky 



* As is well known, the fragrance of the Jasmine species, particularly in 
the tropics, is preeminently noticeable above that of all other odoriferous 
vegetation of the smaller growths. M 



Their brows are veiled in violet drapery. 

From on those heights the native mountaineer 

Surveys the waters of th' encircling sea : 

Alone his love their rugged steeps to dare, 

Nor deems he else an equal luxury, 

Though 'neath his view eternal shades abound, . 

And fruits deUcious freight the hidden ground. 

As folded flowers in tranquil slumber rest, 

On the still air of summer's sultry day. 

So sleep those isles upon the placid breast 

Of southern seas, where spicy breezes play. 

Soft are those winds, with odorous sweets imbued, 

Of lemon flowers and rich acacia blooms, 

And countless flow rs that breathe their chaste perfumes 

Upon the air, by amorous breezes wooed. 

Amid the verdure of the islands' shades 

Unceasing pour the joyous warblers' song 

By gurgling rills and in the flowery meads. 

Where o'er bright pebbles streams pactolian throng. 

And waving osiers breathe aeolian song. 

Till o'er cascades where bends the curling vine 

They hang the rocks with ribboned crystaline, 

Then babble on with smiles for every blade 

And every blossom which adorns the glade. 

So there the moon's subHmest light illumes 

The sylvan streams which glass her brilliancy, 
As 'mid their shades the nightingale consumes 

The tropic eve in languid minstrelsy. 
Till the sweet voices of the twilight cease, 
And nature's pulses tremble into ])eace, 
When in sweet numbers, to the soft guitars', 
Love breathes its story to the list'ning stars. 



Entrancing scenes of artless luxury 
Where in profusion lavish nature shed 

Her richest stores, nor deem e'en heaven can be 
More fair, its fields more fit for angels' tread. 



II. 



The morn across the Antillean seas 

Broke softly with a freshing breeze, 

Which o'er the bounding billows swept, 

Till in the island groves it slept. 

Or wandered merrily along 

Amid its shades, which at its song 

Waking, their '' leafy banners "* hung 

Out as it passed, while sweetly sang 

The plumaged throng in bright array, 

Their anthem to returning day. 

To shade and waves the zephyr breathed 

Its greeting, and their bosoms wreathed 

In smiles, — they all rejoiced to press 

The balminess of that caress. 

As rippling on in merry glee 

In- such delightful company, 

Till on the shore they sighed to tell 

In parting there their sad farewell. 

The sun, now risen through the verdant trees, 

Tuned by the breeze to rustic symphonies, 

Shed o'er * * * Lake, whose waters lay 

Within the soundings of Carribea's sea, 

It softest rays yet brightest, till its breast 

Sparkled with brilliants, like some beauty dressed 

* Longfellow. 



In jeweled splendor, as it rose and fell 
In warm pulsation. 

Here long alone, 
Save with his child, scarce to his household known, 
Beside these shores had dwelt and slept — now dead — 
The Don Goncalo. Many years had fled 
Since first he sought these shades which now watched o'er 
His marble crypt upon the further shore. 
Whence he had come none knew; — none e'er had known ; 
Why thus he lived, avoiding e'en his own. 
And none remembered since the earhest day 
He trod those shores one from them spent away. 
Though at each eve this man of mystery 
Far into night had wandered by the sea. 
And only there was he e'er known to show 
Aught of emotion ; then, from some deep woe, 
It seemed to rise, which in his heart lay sealed, — 
Some wearing, secret jealousy concealed. 
Stern was his glance, withal yet kind his eye. 
Where pride enthroned maintained a mastery 
O'er those emotions which his heart downweighed ; 
Nor rose unguarded, save when sleep betrayed. 
In life, his thought ne'er wearying, did employ 
Itself in studying but his daughter's joy; 
And wealth attending left naught to desire, 
Save to reclaim from that dark shade her sire : 
— Was it remorse or sorrow which thus moved 
The heart her own, so truly — fondly loved. 
But death, that presence which man's heart subdues, 
— Refusing oft' that which alone it sues 
In its last hour :— A moment's strength to bear 
Up from its tomb the sins pride buries there, — 



Had sought Goncalo and its fell decree 
Forever sealed his life's strange mystery, 
Save that unconscious then, his tongue betrayed 
Accents that told of passion's hand unstayed 
Named with his wife, as wild emotion pressed 
Its rending billows o'er his troubled breast : 
— She whom those lips had never named before 
For years — a stranger to the child she bore. 
Now years had fled — to womanhood had grown 
The child, yet had she not been left alone 
For a not less than mother's love was hers 
In one her guardian from her earliest years. 

III. 

Upon * * * lake smooth gliding o'er 
Its waves a gondola approached the shore, 
Beneath the oar of swarthy Islander 
Borne gently onward. Long his raven hair 
Fell from beneath a ribboned sombrero, 
About his neck uncovered — and below. 
Across his half bared breast of olive hue. 
Floated before the breeze. His eyes — but who 
Would paint a CrioUo and shade his eyes 
Less dark then are his southern starlit skies 
A lovely figure in the bark reclined : 
Goncalo's daughter, her sweet form confined 
In softest folds of chaste illusion lay. 
The very soul of grace and symmetry, 
Beneath a silk o'ershading, on a spread 
Of Persian tapestry. Rested her head 



TO 



On her warm hand, round which her wealth of hair, 

Uplooped with rosebuds, twined and naively there 

Their crimson blossoms clung, and seemed to seek 

I'o shade the damask softness of her cheek. 

Hey eyes were dark — 'twould be a mockery 

To try to paint them by a simile, 

As they beneath their silken fringe half closed. 

In lustrous languor dreamingly reposed. 

And, as the moon along the summer sky 

Floats calmly on in silvery drapery 

Of fleecy clouds — rent by the wind, concealed 

Its beauteous form, yet modestly revealed : 

So her loose garment by the wind caressed, 

Disclosed the beauteous softness of her breast, 

Which has pulsating 'neath its folds suggested 

A little sno7udvift with a soul invested. 

A terraced stair, with marble balustrade, 

Rose from the lake — and thence an avenue, 

'Neath palms o'er-arching stretched up the hillside 

To where, crowning its summit, the chateau 

In antique beauty stood. — Around the shade 

Of the mimosa and acacia swayed 

In wandering winds laden with sweet distilled 

From neighboring lemon groves, while clustering there 

Bloomed floral hues unnumbered, and the air 

Amid the foliage musical was filled 

With songs of birds. 
Delightful scenes stretched round on every hand 
Far as the sight the vista could command, 
Of orange groves waving their golden yield 
Where royal magnolias ranged the freighted field, 



And undulating plains, which to the view 
Their stately palms displayed in richest hue, 
From which^ far distant, rose against the sky 
A mountain range in sullen majesty, 
Stretching far eastward with the boundless sea : — 
The sister tenants of immensity ! 

'Neath a mimosa shade, 
Amid the verdure with bright blossoms spread, 
Where over-arching vines with blooms o'er run, 
Tempered the brightness of a tropic sun, 
Reclined the figure of a youth, though grown 
To manhood's stature. Through the screen o'er thrown 
Of foHage intertwined the sunlight crept. 
Bathing his brow, — as motionles he slept, 
O'er which his hair in indolent unrest 
Moved in dark clusters, by the wind caressed. 
A flush was warmly glowing on his check 
As soft as are the roseate tints that streak 
The summer sky when, as night's curtains close 
On twilight's breast, day sinks into repose. 
So o'er his lips, which closed though not compressed, 
Like the wrought marble, changelessly at rest, 
The glow of youth in ruddy freshness strayed 
As living streams the quiet wood pervade 
And there was stamped upon that noble face 
Unbending pride, yet tempered with a grace 
Of true nobiUty, — that influence 
Which moulds the face in gentler lineaments. 
Plain were his features, yet enthroned there, 
In native grace, appeared that nameless air 
Of conscious force, — the reflex of a mind, 
Which still attracts as it commands mankind ; 



The superscription of that power which sways 
The world, the mind, — that prince of sovereignties ! 
With its great premier governing reason throned, 
ControlHng worlds, yet by no power bound. 
Its consort thought ; the eye its minister ; 
The universe its realm ; the arbiter 
In man of men^ who, envious, tJien behold 
Themselves resistless by its power controlled. 
As in submission, 'neath that master spell, 
They render homage, though their wills rebel. 



IV. 



From midnight till the star of morn 

Paled 'neath the saffron veil of dawn. 

Young Pasco, o'er the star-lit wave. 

By many a cape and island cave. 

Full many a league along the shore, 

Guided his bark with steady oar 

From where, within a cliff-bound bay, 

A band of Cuban patriots lay, 

Close 'neath the friendly mountain wall 

Which stretched around, impassable. 

His rich reward fair Lulu's smiles — 

His love — the " beauty of the isles." 

There in the fastness of the mountain height. 

Dreading naught else save the betraying night. 

His patriot comrades waited for the day 

When once again their hands should rend away 

Another thong which bound their bleeding land, 

Wrenched from her heartstrings by a tyrant's hand. 



Thou guardian genius of the patriot brave ! 

Hear thou thy sons, — still thine the power to save, — 

Who to thee turn, scourged in their parent land 

For freedom's cause, by the usurpei's* hand ; 

Strike from ambition's grasp the wreaking blade 

And kindling brand by blind oppression swayed. 

Which o'er that isle, where all's so wondrous fair, 

Spreads blackened desolation and despair ; 

Hear thou thy sons, who nobly still defy 

Thy deadliest foe, — freedom's arch enemy. 

Those, chief of despots, whose dark history reads 

But a long record of oppression's deeds ; 

To thraldom born, that would with envy blind. 

Behold their shackles fettering all mankind. 

As now, invading that all-sunny clime, 

They there would make e'en liberty a crime, — 

That gift divine, hereditary right, 

From mankind stolen in oppression's night. 

Thou stricken isle ! how long shall tyrants flood 

Thy vales of beauty with the patriots' blood ; 

How long, still struggling, must thou bleed, nor find 

One hand of mercy thy red wounds to bind ? 

Weakest, yet braver than the strongest all, 

Must freedom's fairest child unheeded call ; 

Nor to her sisters in her anguished cry, 

Gain but the echo of its agony. 

See in yon vale, where Nature's lavish hand 
Spreads rich luxuriance o'er a smiling land ; 
Amid the verdure of his native shades. 
Where sparkling brooklets babble through the glades, 

* Usurper, not, perhaps, as having deposed a former acknowledgeil 
sovereignty, but as invading the birthrights of free-born men 



^4 

'I'he bleeding stag, just staggering to his feet, 
In stout defiance meets the tiger's hate, 
From whose red jaws on flowery spreads descends 
The gouts of scarlet which its fury rends 
From those poor limbs, that know no soothing flood, 
Save the hot current of their own life-blood. 
7/ms f//ou, fair Cul^a ; — thou America, 
Freedom's fond mother ; child of liberty ! 
Thus in thy gates shall stranger robbers slave 
The darling ofl"spring which thy throes gave, 
— For born of thee she learned thy steps to tread, 
And stones ye give her when she asks but bread. 
Nay, while her cries now smite thy sluggard rest, 
Craving the life blood drawn from thy strong breast ; 
While in her flesh, all quivering, deeper gnaw, 
Beiieath thine eyes, the chains her murderers draw. 
Wilt thou, O mother, — ca?ist thou, close thy heart 
And see the prestige of thy name depart ? 
And thou, Britafmia ! foremost thou to lead 
When justice points where freedom's children bleed ; 
Whose proud escutcheon on thy strong arm girth 
The sun of freedom flashes o'er the earth, 
With thy brave ofl"spring, — and as bravely fair — 
Let it be thine that glory now to share ; 
Liberty's birth, before whose dazzling ray 
Tyrants, confounded, shrink in dread away. 
As to their lair the preying beasts of night. 
When o'er the mountain breaks the morning light. 



^5 
V. 



Young Pasco, boldest of the brave, 
Feared not the wildness of the wave ; 
To him the night wind o'er the sea 

Was but a voice of melody ; 
Its tossing waves — his heart more free — 

Were but a thing of ecstasy, 
In which his boundless thoughts but found 
Companions — their impatient sound 
Reflecting in their vague unrest. 
Love's fevered pulses in his breast ; 
And so he welcomed with delight 
These restless spirits of the night. 
To him — to none of they wlio brave 
For woman's love or wind or wave, 
Is there a peril which can fright 
In trackless seas or mountain heiglil 
While still eternities of bliss 
Are centered in a woman's kiss. 
Now as the dying shades of night 
Fled silently before the light 
Of coming day, his light caique 
Was moored within an island creek. 
Soon reached the scene he knew so well, 
Made sacred by the last farewell 
Which he had kissed from lips that thrilled 
His quick'ning pulse, while parting chilled 
His anxious heart ; — as love still dreads 
The misty veil the future spreads, 
Nor willing yields its sovereignty 
To hope, which gilds futurity 



i6 



With brightness, which its spirit fears 

Reflected in a woman's tears. 

Thus as he now, fatigued, reclined 

Beneath a shade, perchance to find 

A moment of repose ere day 

Should point the hour which should repay 

Love's willing toil, his memory drew 

The hour of his last adieu, 

Which now his heart rejoice to greet : 

— Would it not make the joy more sweet 

To fold again that form consigned 

To hope which ne'er had proved unkind ? 



VI. 



As in the loadstone dwells a vital force 

We may not trace to its mysterious source, 

which seeks its consort, the responding steel, 

And to it cUngs, nor why does it reveal, 

Th' effect we mark ; — the Caiise^ there dies the light 

And wonders pauses on the verge of night, 

While all the cunning of philosophies 

Ends in the simple knowlege that — // is. 

E'en thus in love a nameless power lies, 

Attracting still its own affinities. 

Beneath which force the heart responsive moves 

Love's willing footsteps toward the thing it loves : 

The will obeys, — and why it cannot tell, 

Yielding unconscious to that mystic spell. 

In spirit-vision which outwings the sight, 

— Pursued by thought in its mysterious flight 



17 

Thus oft' there dawns a seeming consciousness : 

— Thought's dimmest taper glimmering faint and low, 
When near us throbs the heart our own would bless, 

Feeling ere yet its presence we may know : 
Still 'tis not felt — this intercourse of souls, 

Unknown its workings to the mists of sense, 
And yet the will its magic force controUs, 

Which yields unconscious to its influence 

Thus as she wandered 'neath the verdant shades 
Which round her island home luxuriant pressed, 

As from the lake she sought their quiet glades, 
Dreaming of one whose image filled her breast. 

Did Lulu feel this influence which invades 
The realm of thought with pulses to invest 

Those cords magnetic which two hearts unite : 

— A bond too hallowed for the sensual sight. 

And thus impelled, unconsciously she sought 
The floral shade where Pasco sleeping lay. 

Wondering the while if life could offer aught 
And Pasco gone ; and then in ecstasy 

Transfixed she stood^ as quick that saddening thought, 
Darkening her eyes, faded in tears of joy : 

— And O how bright beamed those all-lustrous eyes 

'Neath that one cloud, flashing love's sympathies. 

" My Pasco^' — and her voice sank sweetly lower 
From the first pulse of love's temerity, 

Like the lone nightingale's, in twilight's hour. 
As when disturbed its warblings die away ; 
And flushed her cheek as, like an arching flower. 
O'er him she leaned in love's expectancy, 



i8 



Pressing her heart which throbbed all envious, 
That sleep should claim a moment of its bHss. 



O love, thou sweet enigma of the soul. 

Fearless yet fearful ; all-seeing yet how blind ; 
Omniscient yet thou spurn'st the mild control 

Of thy co-dweller 7'easo?i, thus combined 
Opposing forces blend a marvellous whole 

In thy mysterious framework,— that designed 
By goodness infinite that from its rise 
The soul might glimpse the fields of paradise. 

Pleasures which once no joy could e'er imi)art, 
Or longings waked they could not satisfy, 

'Neath this sweet force find echo in the heart. 
Breathing of its diviner ministry. 

Love heaven's rich dower to man of life vhe part 
All sacred all immortal, which slia^l be 

Paternally as it hath ever been. 

The life of life, — of life the origin. 

Well Lulu spent about the time recjuired 
To read the last two stanzas of my rhyme, 

In that impatience which by love inspired 
Makes every breath a century of time. 

Fearless, and yet her trembling heart conspired 
To stay the utterance of its joy sublime, 

And on her lips, capricious bound the kiss 

There waiting restless its approaching bliss. 



But love no longer could resist, and now 
Beside him seated 'mong the flowers, Lulu 

One long and lingering kiss upon his brow 
Impassionately pressed, — then back she drew, 

As fearing love too bold, while a warm glow 
Suffused her cheek ; then o'er his face anew 

Her own she leaned, as Pasco, waking, seemed 

As if he doubted if he lived or dreamed. 

" Is it a dream ? No, no. No dream could trac:e 
Such wondrous beauties as my Lulu grace ; 
No vision paint an image half so fair 
As thou, my idol, — and thou sought me here, 
Thou, beauty's self ! " Then in one long embrace, 
Upon his breast pillowed her lovely face, 
Li speechless joy her idoled form he pressed 
Close to the heart which trembled in his breast. 
" Not here, my Pasco — everywhere this heart 
Li spirit flight hath followed where thou wert, 
At morn and eve, — and through night's vision still,- 
The paths exploring of each neighboring hill. 
As hope still promised with each coming day 
Thy watched return — how oft' but to betray, 
Yet when its voice with less assurance came. 
And busy memory ceaseless called thy name, 
Love, trembling, sank on sorrow's pallid breast, 
And there, disconsol'te, sobbed itself to rest. 
But this no more ;- — sorrow shall wait on joy, 
Which must alone the hours now employ 
With thy return, thou truant wanderer; 
And first account thee since we parted here. 



Then did thou promise by thine own true heart 
E'en thus : ' but for a Httle time we part ;' 
And now the moon, then newborn, hung on high, 
Full thrice hath waned along the summer sky. 
And see ! — why thus in miUtary mien 
Art thou returned ? Where hath my Pasco ])een, 
That thus of dress, as for some carnival, 
Absence hath been so strangely prodigal ? 
' ris sure thy humor,— yet thy pensive eye 
Scarce seems to bear such presence company." 
'' Then with thine own softly persuasive eyes, 
Shall they but bear love's happier embassies : 
E'en as thou say'st : ' Sorroiv on Joy shall wait,' 
As love would e'er sorrow anticipate* 
Which still o'erbodes ; for 'tis hntjoy to weigh 
In love's sweet balance sorrows passed away. 
Called from thy side, — still in our country's cause, 
The cause of freedom and of justice laws. 
Employed each hour, — too brief to liberty, 
Yet O how lengthened distant far from thee. 
Would 't were not mine to tell thee that in vain 
Our land still struggles 'neath oppression's chain ; 
That still her sons must strive, nor free her soil 
From despots who her of her rights despoil. 
Come now the hour when all who love their isle, 
As hating those who still her vales defile, 
Must strike for freedom, nor e'en shrink to bear 
Its standard foremost in the ranks of war." 
" Thus hast thou ever nobly born thy part. 
Allegiance sharing but with this fond heart. 

* Forestall. 



My Pasco, till of all thou once possessed — 
All save thy ///>, in this art thou divest." 
*' That gift alone is worthy freedom's cause, 
— Her sword reproachful till each patriot draws — 
And if but ventured — on that hazard cast. 
Rich the reward, if that loved cause at last 
Triumphant stands ; and if this may not be, 
Better to die than Hve for tyranny. 
But of thyself" (for still did Pasco fear 
To hope and love-expectant to declare 
Honor's last sacrifice) " my Lulu, tell 
The hour's record, which thou hast marked so well 
By the pure moon, which now more chaste must prove, 
Since it hath been companion to my love." 
Then were recalled those hours of bitterness 
When hope beamed low, those " tremblings of distress."^ 
Which rend the heart when separation flings 
Dark chilling shadows from its sombre wings : 
Each day remembered with its train of fears ; 
Patience grown weary ; —faith subdued to tears, 
Till in love's presence all dissolved in light 
With beauty beam — love's sweet smiles to invite — 
Like those dark mists the risen sun imbues 
As breaks the morning, with unnumbered hues. 

So sped the hours — so swiftly do they fly 

Unmarked by thought in love's sweet company, 

Till now they led adown the glowing west. 

Beyond the wave, the God of day to rest. 

Then, as the clouds which neath the moon's clear light 

In beauty drape the majesty of night, 

* Bvron. 



When swept away by spirit winds that sigh 

Their weird lamentings through the silent sky, 

To darkness fade — thus borne from their bright sphere 

Into the regions of the nether air ; 

Shadowing o'er the watching stars but now : 

Beaming in beauty on their silvery brow 

So the glad light which shone in Pasco's eye 

— Reflected from love's fervency of joy, 

Now died away as from the shades of thought 

Memory recalled that ill in joy forgot ; 

That dark foreboding which with deep unrest 

Disturbed the pulses of his troubled breast, 

And threw a shade of sadness o'er his brow 

Which beamed so bright with happiness but now : 

But quick his heart again forbade that this 

Should shadow o'er his star of loveliness. 

As it recalled that cloud which thought had thrown 

Across his face, — Yet ere 'twas wholly gone 

Her upturned eyes then fixed upon his own, 

With love's perception marked that shadow fade, 

Which to her own his troubled heart betrayed. 

Then thus she spoke : — " My Pasco must I trace 

One line of sadness falling o'er thy face 

Nor know the sorrows which thy heart invade. 

And thus the brightness of thine eyes o'er-shade ; 

Must love with love share naught but happ'mess. 

Nor make its own the sorrows that oppress 

The heart which yields the only joy it knows ; 

From which the essence of its being flows. 

Nay thus to share thy sorrows but shall be 

To add to love a keener ecstasy ; 



23 



Nor deem thy voice one accent e'er can tell 
To pain this bosom— lest it \)q fareivell^ 
For still with thee this heart can now no pain. 
And welcome sorrow when we part again" 
While thus she spoke proud adoration filled 
His throbbing heart with quickening pulses thrilled 
As in his eyes rose those all holier fires 
Which pure aff'ection in the breast inspires, 
While thus devotion in her heart displayed 
New springs of goodness ne'er before betrayed 
From which sweet faith with gracious hand supplied 
Entrancing draughts, thus doubly sanctified, 
But when of parting her loved accents spoke 
From his sweet dream of happiness he woke, 
And in his heart, as falls a funeral knell, 
Choking its pulses crushed that word '^farewell.'' 
As o'er his face a shade of sadness swept, 
And in his eyes their wonted brightness slept. 
Which for a moment sought the neighboring sea 
In vague unquiet ere he made reply. 
Then thus he spoke : " My Lulu couldst thou see 
W^ithin my heart its weight of agony 
That from thy side a voice all must obey : 
Liberty's death-cry summons me away. 
Would love dare hide what honor's act hath done 
From thee e'en still my own my lovely one, 
That for thy sake no slightest cloud should lower 
To cast one shadow in this longed for hour. 
Whence now I come, beset by tyrant hate, 
Gathered our comrades for the struggle wait ; 
Wait for the hour when Cuba's foes shall know ; 
Not unavenged her children's blood shall flow, 



24 

For though on freedom treads the oppressor's heel, 

Crushing it downward, shall the tryants feel 

For them from freedem's bleeding wounds shall flow 

A poison deadlier than their hate can know. 

Thus have I dared enlist for liberty 

The hfe which love consecrated to thee 

At whose command returned to thee I bear 

My heart, sweet one, which asks thine own to share 

Its sacrifice, — yet fear not hope shall prove 

Beauty's sustainer and the strength of love. 

The midnight passed unknown the shades of fate, 

For thee my heart with longing pulses beat 

Whose sweet assurance should impart new hfe 

Te brave the'i)erils of th' impending strife. 

Then through 't was death, for thee my loveUness 

Scaling the rocks which wall the mountain pass 

Where lie our band I sought the neighboring sea 

Whose friendly billows bore me safe to thee." 

She heard — yet dared not trust her tongue t' impart 

The cry of sorrow echoing in her heart, 

As motionless she clung to his embrace, — 

Save that along her frame her wild distress 

A tremor sent, the coldness of despair 

Within her heart which now was chilling there. 

Beneath which presence trembling fled away. 

Fond hope still lingering longingly to stay. 

— Hope that still waits e'en where relentless death 

From some loved form hath claimed the fleeting breath 

Nor yields through darkest fall the mists of gloom 

Till at the all inexorable tomb 

Palsied with grief it views, e'eti douhtiiig stilly 

That cherished form laid in the ' narrow cell ' 



Then in one pang yields up the life which id 

Upon the features of its idoled dead.* 

"And is it thus ", — that shut within her breast 

By sorrow prisoned, her sad accents ceased 

As on his breast she sank, — a drooping flower, 

Voiceless beneath that grief that hath but power 

To fee/ — and in its night of woe to see 

But the dark image of its agony. 

'• Nay let not tears bedim thy lustrous eyes 

Nor cloud of sorrow o'er thy beauty rise 

For though night lowers it must fade away 

— And O what brightness waits returning day. 

Before the sunlight melts along the main 

Its waves must bear me to our band again, 

While hope shall guard love's consecrated shrine. 

Which sacred charge to it must love resign."' 

" To Jiope^' she sobbed, '' to hope, whose changeful ray 

Ever receding, beams but to betray, 

While still with light delusive it illumes 

The mists of sorrow which it ne'er consumes. 

But no," and now in calmer voice she spoke. 

Though from her breast its anguished pulses broke 

In trembling utterance, " no, our country's need 

" Must not unanswered to her children plead, 

And shall her daughters from that cup once shrink 

Which to its dregs her sons so proudly drink? 

Go thou, my Pasco, though each hour shall knell 

Its wail of sorrow from this sad farewell. 



* 1 must claim indulgence in venturing to insert the preceding eight lines. 
The strophe is introduced, hoivever incongruously, to portray the consfanry of 
hope,— not certainly as presenting a figure of hopelessness to be attributed to 
my subject. 



26 



And night returning in each breast shall sigh 

The weary reckoning of recurring day, 

Till thy return, — O God, should this be not — " 

And hope shrank, trembling from that direful thought, 

As one wild burst of anguish swept her breast, 

And choked its pulses tremWing into rest. 

Amid the flowers he laid her form, — and now 

Brushed tlie dark tresses from her pallid brow. 

And with warm kisses, as o'er her he kneeled. 

Sought to restore the life which pain congealed. 

And through their channels from her heart to bear 

The crowding currents which were chilling there. 

A s])irit of tenderness sought her sweet face, 

Smoothing each line to placid loveliness, 

— A beatific calm like that in death 

Which still reflects, though ceased fore'er the breath. 

The soul's last, sweetest smile : that halo shed 

O'er th' all but Hvhig features of the dead. 

'i1ien raised her eyelids, fringed in mourning hue, 

Where tears were trembling as the early dew 

Trembles in beauty 'neath the paling night 

P>e well the sun dissolves it into light. 

On him, half wondering, fixed her saddened eyes 

Where resignation draped love's sympathies. 

Which there were gathered, with her sable shade 

For hoj^e deep in the heart's sepulchre laid. 

As in his arms he raised her to his side, 

Around his neck her own were calmly laid. 

While that pure tribute love's chaste throbbings yield 

Upon his Hps in lingering fear was sealed. 

" Farewall, my Lulu," and his voice betrayed 
The deep emotion which his bosom swayed ; 



*' Farewell ; the morn must to my comrades prove 
That Pasco's honor 's stronger than his love^ 
And shame the fear which stings my thought to view 
That to his country Pasco was untrue." 

-;.• -A- -;f * * -X- ■;<- -x- 

One kiss— another — 

Now alone she stood 
In the drear waste of memory's solitude, 
Where hope's sad spirit wailed and echoed o'er, 
ChilHng life's currents, " here forevermore." 

VII. 

The moon high o'er Del Cobre's sombre height 
Dispelled the shades of the unwelcome night, 
Flooding the vale and towering mountain side 

In silvery light. Adown the valley gleamed, 
In gracious curves, calm * * * wandering tide. 

Till winding 'neath a dark abyss it seemed 
To seek repose 'neath the o'er-frowning height, 
Whose sombre front repelled the moon's clear light, 
As some great serpent drags its weary length 
Within the shadows of its cavern strength. 

All motionless, like troops of hadean ghosts, 
In groups and isolate, the plain across. 

Ranged the dark palms, which the bright armored hosts 
On heaven's battlements watched tremulous. 
No sound disturbed the stillness, save the cry 
Of the lone night-bird calling plaintively, 
With the soft voice communing with the night 
Of falling water, white in the moonlight, 



28 

Which from the mountain, sought the river's breast, 

And with it mingling hushed itself to rest. 

Far up the height, along a mountain pass, 

Skirting the brink of measureless abyss. 

Now and anon gleamed 'gainst the darkened height 

Of rock o'ertowering, the portentous light 

Of glist'ning steel, whose momentary gleams 

Chilled the soft whiteness of the moon's pale beams. 

There on the height repose the patriots sought, 

Slumbering upon their arms, yet wakeful, caught 

The voice which told another hour had gone, 

Which cunning time from friendly night had won, 

As in the mount's defile the sentinel 

In cautious utterance said, " men, all is well." 

Then quick again upon the pass he stood. 

Courting its shades, as the calm solitude 

Of vale and pass he watched with jealous care ; — 

Ah I who could dream that death was lurking there ? 

* .:- -v. -x- * 4i -;{. .;f 

"And dost thou think the rebel watch can sight 

From where thou say'st they hold yon mountain height. 

The stream below where shades its breadth half o'er 

Yon darkening cliff? There may the further shore 

Alone be reached : too deep the river's bed 

Here where concealed these friendly shades o'erspread 

To ford its depths ; — and well I deem 'tis meed 

If men must die, 'tis nobler that they bleed ; 

Then if our foes like they of Yards fight. 

None may be spared who strive for Spain to-night. 

But there we cross, — and thou canst lead us on, 

As thou hast said, and by a path unknown ? " 



29 

" I can, my chief : within a cave it ends, 

And thence tlie path through narrow gorge ascends 

To a defile where lie the rebel crew. 

The pass is sure : the rest an hour must show." 

'• Well thou hast spoke. Soldiers," he turning said^ 

— The dark battalion there beneath the shade 

Stood motionless, — 

" The enemies of Spain 
Keep yonder height, nor dream ere night shall wane 
The rocks that now their rebel slumbers keep 
Loud shall re-echo with their own death shriek. 
We cross below where yonder rock o'ershades. 
Look to your arms ; guard well no naked blades 
A warning bear to traitor eyes, — for know 
But to their hearts such messengers should go." 
Then to the guide : " Pepillo, lead the way ; 
Now steady — march ! " The column moved away 
Along the stream, and silently it trod 
With measured cadence o'er the yielding sod. 
Soon reached the ford, they halted. " Pepillo, 
Scan well the height — say canst thou see the foe ? " 
" Look thou, my chief, seest thou that gleam of light- 
Wait but a moment- -now upon the height 
Above the fall ? " 

" Aye, there — but now 'tis gone. 
Lose not a moment" — 

" Steady, men, as one, 
March ! " In they moved. Invaded thus, the stream 
Plaintively muttered — as in some strange dream 
The restless slumberer. 

— Soon 'twas left to rest, 
And scarce a ripple trembled on its breast. 



30 

Traversed the plain 'neath the disguising wood, 

Soon at the mount the halted column stood. 

Once more was scanned with stealthy eyes the height ; 

Otice 7nore there gHmmered that betraying light, 

As the clear moon illumined the pass, till now 

Veiled by the shadows from the clifif's dark brow. 

Beneath the shades which clothed the mountain sides 

The chief held whispered council with the guide ; 

Then at their head, prepared to lead the band, 

He silent waited for the chief's command. 

Who at his side in measured whispers said, 

While all stood motionless as are the dead : 

" Now comrades, softly ; muffle e'en your breath, 

Nor let your footsteps prate of coming death. 

When reached the cave, by fours close column keep ; 

Thence scarce ten paces where the rebels sleep, 

Where once again must traitors, bosoms feel 

The deadly coldness of the Spaniards' steel." 

Along the mountain tops the day 

Arrayed in robes of sombre grey, 

Crept on apace, as Pasco stood 

In turn to guard the solitude 

Of the defile and vale below, 

Which now the moon — suspended low. 

With shadows thronged that lengthened loomed 

Along the glen like spirits doomed 

To endless silence, — gathering there 

With waving plumes, as if to bear 

The dying night unseen, — afar, 

To its mysterious sepulchre. 



3' 



Beneath the cooHng breath of morn 

His comrades, now fatigued and worn 

By hours of wearying, restless sleep. 

Now lay, o'ercome, in slumber deep, — 

Like that which soothes the feeble breast 

When fever's crazing pulse is passed, 

And motionless composure gives. 

With scarce a throb to tell it lives. 

Yet wakeful in each weary breast 

One thought watched o'er the patriot's rest : 

Ah, but for this it had been mad 

To trust to slumber all they had 

In hope,— from Freedom's beckoning star 

Which brightly beamed though distant far : 

--That thought their land, which to such hearts 

A deathless double life imparts. 

An hour had passed, and Pasco stept 

Within the pass to where still slept 

His comrades, though their eyeHds lay 

Just bound by sleep's sweet mystery. 

He turned the cliff — 

Then forward sprang. 
As on the startled silence rang, 
Rebounding with a hundred shocks 
From peak to peak of towering rocks. 
His carbine's crash — the signal set 

Should night unmask her dread alarms, 
And they surprised, by foes beset, 

No moment find to call to arms— 
For springing from a neighboring height, 
With bayonets glimmering in the light 



3^ 



Of early dawn, he there beheld 

The hated foe, — as wildly swelled 

Those phrensying pulses in his breast 

Those feel by tyranny opprest, 

Which know no wilder throb of hate 

Than that when face to face they meet 

Their despot's slaves, who crav'n would dare 

To bind them with the chains they wear. 

Quick as his thought his lead as true, 

Struck from the cliff a foeman low ; 

Nor had the signal failed, as told 

A crash of musketry which rolled, 

Re-echoing with the thunder's might 

From where the patriots held the height, 

'Neath which above the crash arose 

The death-shriek of a score of foes, 

Which from the patriots brought a cry 

Of stern defiant mockery. 

Then quick in fierce reply outrang, 

As Pasco 'midst his comrades sprang, 

A volley from the Spaniard band, 

Now closing fast on every hand, 

And 'neath its storm of iron hail 

Full many a noble patriot fell, 

Employing still ere hushed by death 

The accents of his latest breath 

In freedom's name as to her foes 

His shout of proud defiance rose. 

As rush the waves' impetuous might 

Against the cUff's opposing height, 

Their foam-locks streaming in the storm, — 

Each like some fierce demoniac form, 



33 

On sweeping with resistless force 

The strength which seeks to stay their course, 

Till backward hurled in turn they lay 

Low quivering in their parent sea, 

Again to rise — and yet again, 

As oft' flung backward to the main. 

Yet shivering as they fiercely rush 

The tottering height they may not crush : 

So now, with bayonets set, and hair 

Back floating on the trembling air, 

— No time for aught save steel now left, 

Farward the island patriots swept. 

Led on, — if aught the brave e'er lead, 

By Pasco waving at their head 

Their country's flag, full proud to give 

Their Hves, that its loved cause might live. 

Fired by the madly coursing blood 

Which swelled each pulse, a phrensying flood, 

Upon the hireling foe they dashed, 

Undaunted, though out-belching flashed 

Full in their course a withering breath 

Of flame, red-tongued, which seethed with death. 

Mute as the dead, nor stopped, nor stayed, 

With fixed eyes and jaws close laid ; 

Each springing where a comrade fell 

There summoned by his last death yell. 

Breathing that atmosphere of hell 

Onward they swept, like wave on rock, 

Till now, with all resistless shock. 

Closing upon the foe, they rushed ; 

Beneath that shock recoiling, crushed 



34 



Down — doii'H — as many a bosom writhed 
Beneath the freezing steel there sheathed ; 
Yet lingered not, but quick once more 
The thirsty metal wreaked in gore, 
As with insatiate greed it leaped, 
Still dripping scarlet doubly steeped. 
From breast to breast, deep curdling there 
The currents stagnant 'neath despair, 
Till cleft the arm which urged it fell 
Low quivering in its purple rill. 
High swelled the frightful din of war, 
The wild death shreik ; the shivering jar 
Of splintering steel ; the stiffled groan, 
Half choked ere breathed ; the fitful moan 
From life's low pulse ; the sabres' shock 
Which rose, down swept — too fiercely lock : 
— Nor loosed their hold till rent apart. 
Then plunged revengeful in each heart : 
— As if imbued with 7'ery life, 
Conscious they shared their masters' strife. 
Ah, who that awful shock may tell, 
When waves of human anger swell 
In fierce contention — battling where 
Meet livid hate and grim despair ; 
Who paint that hour of phrenzied strife 
When passion spares not — asks not life ; 
Nor deems its warmest, softest breath 
As sweet as the cold gasp of death 
Forced from that heart where still the steel 
It pressed with a savage zeal. 
Now backward forced scarce half remain, 
— But step by step — then yet again 



35 

Fierce dashing on the staggered foe, 

Each laid another Spaniard low, 

As sinews straining, hand to hand 

The few still left of that brave band — 

Pale as the dead ; each forehead set 

With beads of cold, congealed sweat ; 

While from their breasts down-trinkling rolled 

The scarlet gouts, or stream that told 

The murderous sabres' mission there, 

Red-gleaming on the troubled air — 

Sprang at a foe defiant still, 

In hate which death alone could kill. 

Beset as one of wolves the prey. 

Full twenty sabres kept at bay, 

Back forced, contending /<?(?/ hy foot ; 

Red stained from many a streaming cut. 

There Pasco, foremost in the fray, 

Battled the foe defiantly. 

Above his head the flag he held. 

One arm but free its folds to shield, 

Which wielded with resistless might 

His sabre, — busiest in the fight. 

Struck from his hands the colors lay, 

Forward he dashed : the foe gave way, 

Save one more bold who dared contest 

His way, and sought from him to wrest 

The prize regained, but all in vain 

— One more was numbered with the slain. 

Then quick again he waved it o'er, 

Its folds now steeped in crimson gore, 

As up his height he proudly drew 

And fearless scoffed the hated foe. 



36 

But the fast ebbing scarlet tide 

Down coursing from his breast and side, 

Had sapped his Hfe, and that proud cry 

Broke in a gasp of agony. 

Then on their victim doomed they pressed 

— Back staggering, till by deep abyss, 

From which up-rose a doleful roar 

Like that from waves which beat the shore 

Far distant heard, now Pasco stood 

Defiant still — still unsubdued. 

While round him, eager for his life, 

His foes fast closed. The torrent's strife 

Deep down the gorge he heard and knew 

It swept a thousand feet below. 

Nor aught between where hope could trace 

For Daring's foot a refuge place. 

Then the first fear his bosom knew 

Cast o'er his face a pallid hue, 

As there now mingling curdled stood 

Out-starting drops of sweat and blood. 

— One glance quick sought the foe-kept pass ; 

Quick one the yawning precipice, 

'I'hen with a shout of proud disdain — 

A challenge to the arms of Spain — 

He turned and down the caiion leaped 

— Still grasped the flag so bravely kept ; 

So nobly borne in life 'twas meet 

In death 't should be his winding sheet. 

* Vr * * * * 

The struggle o'er, in death's embrace 
Each patriot soldier face to face 



37 

There with his foe sank down to rest 

— Undrawn the blades from each still breast. 

The sunbeams there that morning played 

On many a shattered sabre blade, 

But warmed not those who ne'er might know 

Again its life-exhaling glow. 

Still now the scene an hour before 

Which echoed with red-battle's roar 

And mingling there together flowed 

The Patriots' and the Spaniards' blood. 

No sign of life was seen save where 

The vulture soaring high in air, 

Amid the sky's ethereal blue, 

Looked down upon the scene below. 

As they had fall'n so there they lay 

Till time should hide them in decay, 

Nor lived one of that band to tell 

How Cuba's valiant children fell. 



Note. — In the second and concluding division of this poem, in fol- 
lowing the heroine in her search for her lost lover, I had designed to 
picture, to the best of my ability, the treatment meted out to and dis- 
position made of "los rebeldes " when captured by the Spaniards, — this 
more particularly in the fortressed cities of the Western Department of 
the Island, Santiago de Cuba, Manzanilla, etc., incorporating in my 
rhyme a recount of some of the more notorious acts of barbarism of 
Spanish warfare in that the "ever faithful isle;" I say "I had de- 
signed : " I have not abandoned this purpose, but feeling that I could 
not, injustice to the subject, — or to myself, under existing circumstances, 
undertake to complete the tale, I have determined to hide a more 
" Congenial season." 



38 




Nature exerting an unwearying power 
Forms, opens and gives scent to every flower, 
Spreads the fresh verdure of the fields, and leads 
The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads." 



■Cowper. 



Hail heavenly goddess with thy floral train ! 
Nor from thy praises can my muse refrain, 
As joining with the blithesome sylphs that throng 
Along thy way and wake the earth with song 
And merriment, it would thy steps attend 
And with their praise its humbler plaudits blend. 
It would thy course o'er hill and mead pursue 
As these thou deck'st with robes of richest hue 
And wreathes of flowerets while the joyous earth 
From slumber wakes thy darling offspring Mirth, 
Who hand in hand with roguish JolHty 
In thy glad train trips on right merrily ; 
In flight ethereal o'er thy path he moves 
With winged attendants from Idalia's groves, 



39 

Twining thy brow with bacchanalian wreathes 

And to each nymph the sparkling grape bequeaths ; 

By Dionysus all hilarious led — 

Showers of blossoms falling on his head — 

He chases Frolic while the aerial bands 

Applaud the effort with rejoicing hands 

And hill and dale the glad applause resound 

Till song harmonious fills the air around, 

As in his arms the victor clasps his prize, 

— Buried in laurels where fatigued he lies. 

******* 

All beauteous Spring ! thou darling of the spheres, 
Before whose smile shamed Winter disappears, 
His face conceals yet lingers to survey 
The gladd'ning prospects which thy charms display ; 
What are thy charms let Nature's self declare 
To those who doubting to her courts repair. 
Where scenes delighting stretch on every hand 
As thou with garlands strew'st the smiling land. 
Thy splendor not the dazzling pomp of kings 
The Muse adoring all enraptured sings ; 
Not the vain pageant partial fate bestows 
Upon the few to mock the many's woes 
Sinking its slaves in luxuries that blind 
Till man becomes unfaithful to mankind ; 
Naught such as this thy liberal hand displays : — - 
Impartial still, this would enjoin my praise 
Which gives to all nor circumscribed reveals 
The humblest mortal but its bounty feels. 
While round the peasant in his mountain cot 
Are spread thy gifts where princes are forgot ; 



40 

Richest profusion decks their mean abodes — 
Unknown to man yet favored of the gods — 
His humble home delights thy earliest care 
While princely state remaining bounties share. 
Thy generous hands around the quiet dead 
Brightest of flowers with lavish kindness spread 
And blossoms ladened there with sweet perfume 
Declare thy memory of the silent tomb. 
And O how lovely do thy flowers appear 
Where all is still — so sweetly quiet there ; 
There where the cherished of our hearts repose 
When hfe's short day in evening's shadows close, 
Where softly bright beneath the cypress bloom 
Roses which tint the shadows of the tomb 
— Breathing so sweetly on that hallowed air 
That peace itself appears enseraphed there, 
And modest daisies with chaste violets wed 
Their fitting emblems o'er the slumbering dead 
While humbly o'er immortal amaranths wave, 
Telling of hfe which lies beyond the grave. 
So when not ours to speak that last farewell 
Which in death's hour the bursting heart would tell; 
To catch the accents of that fleeting breath 
Which all composed resigns itself to death, 
How sweetly do these emblems of the dead 
Commune with us of those whose souls are fled 
And to the heart a silent rapture give 
Through memory's voices which forever live. 
But still the glories of thy work I sing, 
O ever beauteous, — ever friendly Spring ; 
Amid thy scenes delighted still I stray. 
As thou with flowers adorn'st the smiUng day, 



41 

And love to mark each change that charms the view 
Which o'er the fields thy lithesome steps pursue. 
See in the meads streams carol as they run 
O'er pebbles colored golden by the sun 
Where meek-faced violets from retirement look, 
Bathing their leaflets in the passing brook, 
And yellow cowslips flaunt their gaudy dress 
Trailing their skirts o'er spreads of velvet cress, 
While everywhere throughout the landscape sway 
In balmy winds the " dariing buds of May." 
Thus on the mountain side the forests bare 
Become the objects of thy tender care, 
Outward to thee stretching their naked arms 
Rejoiced t' embrace thy all-delightful charms. 
And these adorned bedeck the bleak ascent, 
— Of thy great work the grandest monument ! 
******* 

When the soft morn for flight her pinions spread. 
Moving with blushes from her saflron bed, 
As the blue arch which props the eastern sky 
Her rosey wings with softest tint supply ; 
When the first beams of the approaching day 
Across the landscape take their quiet way 
— In that still hour which contemplation loves, 
As nature thus from calmest slumber moves — 
How sweet to wander through the smiHng fields 
And breathe the fragrance nature's garden yields, 
Where every bud which decks the verdant space 
In due degree fills its appointed place. 
And in each flower some difl"ering beauties lie 
While all their Maker's handiwork display ; 



42 

How sweet to rest 'neath some sequestered shade 

By passing zephyrs in their wanderings swayed 

And contemplate vast nature's boundless scheme, 

Supreme creation of a Power supreme ! 

On every hand some lesson man may learn ; 

In every flower some hidden truths discern : 

View with the rose attending thorns appear 

And sharpest thorns the sweetest blossoms bear ; 

Mark the meek violet and the giant tree 

Share his regard in their required degree — • 

All eloquent, bespeak their God's defence 

And show to man impartial providence. 

Here warbUng songsters fill the verdant shades 

And streamlets sparkle through the flowery glades 

Which, with soft winds that tune the whispering trees 

Flood the bright scene with rapturing symphonies, 

High the lark warbles o'er the murmuring trees 

And hurrying swallows skim adown the breeze, 

While the glad lapwing as she upward springs 

Flashes the sunlight from her busy wings. 

The faithful red-breast, first of all the year, 

Sings to its mate in numbers softly clear 

And gives good morrow to the whistling thrush 

Which greets the songster from a neighboring bush ; 

While Zephyrus her fragrant breezes lends 

As with the warblers her soft chorus blends, 

— The aerial gathering decked in varied coats 

Swelling the anthem with their mellow notes, 

Till crowning all in the festivous scene 

Heaven's royal gold weds Earth's imperial green, 

From which great union spring in glorious birth 

Unnumbered flowers which deck their mother earth 



43 

At which all nature in grand concert sings 

And all the plumaged concourse clap their wings. 

* * * * ♦ * * 

The Occident now dons her saffron dress 
Its orange flounces edged with violet lace, 
The royal sun approaching with the eve 
In her enchanted palace to receive. 
Ablaze with light its grand dimensions stand 
Out 'gainst the heavens which above expand, 
— The arching battlements with crimson hung 
And fleecy banners from their summits flung, 
Tinted with purple and enfringed with gold 
Which to the heavens their wavy lengths unfold 
As 'neath the portals moves the god of day 
Followed by the celestial pageantry, 
As waiting Nox swings to the gates of light 
And shuts the scene majestic from the sight, 
When gathering fast attend the sentrying stars 
Marshaled by their proud queen and chieftain Mars. 
The lowing herd now homeward takes its way — 
Each drowsy member following o'er the lea — 
As the weird spirits of the dying light 
Attend in silence the approaching night. 
Hushed nature sleeps cradled in verdant bowers 
On softest beds of fragrant breathing flowers, 
As day upon the bosom of twilight 
Slumbers, — and Cynthia reigns the queen of night. 
While darkness o'er the sky her covering lays 
Fastened with brilliants from the pleiades. 
Now in the wood sings modest philomel 
Her notes nectareous on the stillness swell. 



44 

As willing Echo, waking at the strain, 

Replies harmonious to the pure refrain, 

In shaded haunts where Cynthia's soft beams glide 

'Mid slumbering leaves reposing side by side 

To woo the brooklet which with dimpled smile 

Their love indulges the hours to beguile. 

But ever fickle now in truant glee 

She scampers off, babbling coquetishly. 

To Sylva's side who waits her darling choice 

And breathless Hstens for the well loved voice. 

— Soon dewy showers disturb the vesper lay 

And Philomela's warblings die away, 

While echo with her sinks into repose 

And silence o'er the earth her mantle throws. 



45 



Monody 

On the Death of the wifortimate poet Thos. Chatter ton. 



"That marvelous boy that perished in his pride." 

— Wordsworth. 



Inspire O Muse ! the sadd'ning theme I raise 
To one who loved thy presence, sang thy praise 
In sweetest voice of all thy minstrel choir 
From the first hour his fingers swept the lyre 
Received from thee, — its dulcet strings supplied 
From silver in that fire purified 
Which on the altar of thy temple still 
Lives, though now smouldering, on thy sacred hill. 
Inspire my theme ; a theme adorned to grace 
Thy sweetest songs ; the noblest minstrel's lays, 
To him whose lyre, — so rich its numbers came — 
Shed a new glory on thy sacred name ; 
A heaven-born spirit which from its bright sphere 
Wandering to earth lingered a little here 
To sing the songs which it had known before 
With kindred spirits on the Elysian shore, 



46 

— Earth's tongue in their diviner harmonies 

Echoing here the music of the skies. 

Sweet bard ! how bright thy sun of promise rose 

Yet O what shadows gathered to the close, 

And ere it reached the height of Hfe's noon-day 

Jn mists of darkness quenched fore'er its ray : 

How bright that sun, behold where passed its light 

A star of glory illumines death's night, 

Yielding a beam immortal to that fire 

Which on fame's height lights genius' sacred pyre ! 

Amid the quiet of thy native woods, 

Where the sweet voices of its solitudes 

Contentment breathed, the brook, the meek-faced flower 

The grateful songster ; and in night's still hour. 

The stars were thy sweet loves still sought by thee 

With more than fondest lover's constancy. 

Drawn to their chasteness by that force which gives 

To love to seek its own correlatives. 

Thy faithful heart, e'en as the creeping vine 

Struck by the worm, around its loved did twine 

Its greenest offerings, yielding sweetest breath 

E'en while below cankered the worm of death : 

Thy love its rich warm soil ; its only air 

Draughts humid with the cold mists of despair; 

Its only light hope's distant dying ray 

A spark expiring — in eternal day. 

Relentless fate, inexplicable doom ! 

Which thus Consigned thy genius to the tomb 

And swept thy hopes, thy promise richly fair 

Into the grave to sleep forever there ; 

Nor let thee know in life's resigning breath 

The kindred voice that soothes the pain of death. 



47 

Then in thy mind bright scenes forever past 

Upon thy soul distracting shadows cast 

To make thy agony but deeper grow 

Till thou hadst supped the very dregs of woe, 

While — as the lightning's momentary flight 

Illumes the clouds encumbering the night 

And breaks the darkness of the midnight sky 

But to increase its black intensity — 

Memories of home within thy hapless breast 

Flashed through despair's thick cloud that round thee pressed, 

Which in their brightness served but to illume 

How dark the gathering shadows of the tomb 

And, passed away, in thy distracted mind 

Left a thick darkness doubly black behind. 

As lesser spheres a symmetry do show 

As truly perfect as the greater, so 

The narrowed circle of thy Hfe not less 

Perfection showed for its littleness, 

Where, like the planet with its belt of light, 

Thy star of genius blazed along the height 

Of Fame, and, meteor-like, though soon 'twas gone, 

Gave forth a glory which was all its own. 

Of all mankind the muse did e'er endow 

'Twas thine alone mature in youth to know 

The "gift divine,''* wherein thou didst display 

— An inspiration but revealed in thee — 

With genius knowledge ; knowledge e'en earth's Seers 

Amazed beheld — in all the work of years. 



* " In our judgment of him" (Chatterton) ''age cannot be taken into 
account ; he never seems to have been young. His intellect was born fiilly 
matured^ —Yj^c\ . 



48 

With the eternal hills ; the great, deep sea 
Familiar didst thou commune, — they to thee 
Were but as loved companions ; with dread voice 
The Tempest, robed in night, earth, sea and skies 
Stirring to strife, as through the trembling air 
Hurling its bolts it swept, its course the glare 
Of the fierce lightnings 'luming, was to thee 
A sight which gave thy soul supremacy 
Of joy, as, with the Storm-king's awful form 
Attendant, rode thy spirit on the storm. 
Insatiate Pride beneath thy direful sway. 
Thou scourge of earth, thou subtle votary 
Of death ! of genius all thou may'st o'ercome 
How oft' hath sought the silence of the tomb ; 
Youth- beauty, worth, earth's mightiest thy prey ; 
O'erthrown by thee see nations in decay, 
Of which thou 'st left — of Genius, nations, ail- 
But monuments to show how great their fall. 
Serpent-like coiled within that hapless breast 
Implacable ! 'twas thou his life oppressed ; 
With lying tongue on to destruction, stilled 
The voice of reason, thou his steps beguiled, 
Then, e'en when most thou promised, didst betray 
To death the victim of thy treachery. 
And thou, O world ! in thy cold selfishness 
Witnessed the victim fall yet to distress. 
Born e'en that thou might'st hidden beauties know, 
Brought not relief ; nay, dealt the final blow 
Which all of genius death hath power to bind 
To the dark precincts of the tomb consigned. 
Is it for this the muse her riches gives ; 
Is it for this that patient Genius strives. 



49 

Earth's hidden things of beauty to reveal 

From secret places gleaned with tireless zeal, 

— To live the drudge of penury and care ; 

The dupe of hope ; the victim of despair ; 

The world's cold incredulity to brave ; 

To sink forgotten to a timeless grave — 

That those may share a wealth which else must lie 

Buried in Nature's dread infinity, 

Who while they scruple not the fruits t' enjoy 

Ungrateful coldly pass the laborer by, 

Or turn away by envy rendered bHnd 

— That miscreant which to baseness sinks the mind I 

May shame smite thee, O selfishness ! when on 

The tomb that holds the dust of Chatterton 

Thou look'st ; thou Pride and Etivy should ye too 

There stray, ye shall shame's deepest lashes know. 

While humbled ye within your hearts confess. 

Else dumb, how less ye are than littleness. 



5° 



I 



ctnosp^ction. 




LIKE the window open 

with the shading eglantine 
Breathing incense with the fragrant 

mignonnette's its leaves enshrine ; 
I'll draw the blind a little 

to keep out the setting sun — 
There : now I want to hear you play 

my air when you have done. 
I mean that plaintive melody 

— you know what I would say — 
You played it for me long ago 

as died the light away 
That summer's eve when last we met, 

it seems but yesternight, 
And though clouds shade remembrance now 

it edges them with light. 
The soft Andante breathes to me 

of Saint Celia's bells 
Borne by the evening breezes 

from the Cloister's wooded hills, 



51 

As blending with the murmur 

of the ocean's sad r<ifrain, 
And wakes a sweet sad feeUng 

intermingling joy and pain, 
— Throbbings of joy which sweetly thrill 

by busy memory brought, 
Then sadly tremble into rest, 

struck by the chill of thought. 
I cannot else explain it 

but that memories of the past 
Which that loved melody awakes 

now light now shadows cast 
Upon my heart, as its sweet chords 

recall each cherished scene 
Which now — sweet pictures of the past ! 

but show what " might have been," 
And these alone remain to me 

of all that happy^ time — 
In the soul's darkened chambers hung 

in sad memoriam. 
There might have been no shadows : 

do you think I never guessed 
The secret hidden in the heart 

now beating in your breast ; 
The 7vould-be secret from that night 

I left you for the sea 
When your dear lips revealed that love 

your tongue withheld from me, 
As round my neck your arms were placed 

— I feel their impress yet 
For it woke a rapture in my heart 

I never can forget. 



52 

And in its depths your eyes kindled 

a fire still smouldering there 
Though, like watch-lamps in selpulchres, 

it burns in lifeless air. 
You surely loved me, May, but then 

ere wealth was mine — the prize 
I sought to gain the greater — 

you feared the sacrifice. 
For you could not renounce for me 

what I could not supply : 
That luxury which you enjoyed 

and could not well deny 
Yourself. For this I blame you not — 

man has no right to claim 
Such sacrifice from woman, — 

though they make them all the same, 
And though now fortune has removed 

that barrier aside 
What matters it since I have lost 

the only wealth I pride. 
No, not for this I blame you 

but that when the charm dissolved. 
Ere it had well been woven, 

that your will again involved 
My love. Ah, you remember it 

for though you answer not 
That tear now trembling on your cheek 

shows that the springs of thought 
Have been disturbed by memory, 

and thus overflowing rise — 
And what a lovely channel 

have they chosen in your eyes. 



53 

But take my arm and let us stroll 

along the lilac-way^ 
This may be the last meeting 

we may know for many a day 
For I go from here to-morrow, 

I can scarcely tell you where, 
I do not know which way myself — 

in truth I little care, 
But I dare no longer trust my heart 

by its surrendered shrine 
Lest it should seek to repossess 

that which it must resign ; 
And I would not between you come, 

you now are his, and so 
'Tis better for forgetfulness — for all^ 

that I should go. 
This month you marry him 

— of all the brightest of the year 
Which must with each summer's return 

its shade of sadness bear 
Hereafter, for 'twill wake the love 

I now must bury in 
My heart here where it first was born : 

would that it had not been, 
For better far that ne'er had bloomed 

the flower affection gave 
Than to have blossomed but to deck, 

as now, affection's grave. 
It was beside this gate I stood, 

as you already know, 
And heard you play that melody 

which I now cherish so. 



54 

The day I met you, — then my love 

woke to that sweet refrain 
As its harmony with silver chords 

wove round my heart a chain, 
Which though 'tis rent asunder, 

recollection now displays 
Its scattered links which still reflect 

the scenes of happier days ; 
And with it came an image 

then enshrined within my heart 
Where it must rest until the grave 

shall claim it as its part. 
But May farewell : I'll leave you now, 

we've parted often here 
And this may make it easier 

for both of us to bear — 
Or shall I see you to the porch? 

— it may be wiser so 
For your hand is trembling — though perhaps 

'tis better finished now, 
And so good-bye : the agony 

which now my heart endured 
I pray God with this last adieu 

may never once be yours. 
* * * -x- ^r -X- TV- 

There is a quiet spirit in the trees 

that shade the dead 
Beneath which now I'm sitting 

after many years are fled ; 
Tis June again and from her grave 

I'm looking out to sea 



55 

From the village church-yard where she sleeps 

who was so dear to me. 
The waves break sadly, as I've heard them break 

in many a clime, — 
Like memories which forever fall 

along the shores of time — 
And the droning bee hums idly by 

in the drowsy Summer air 
Lmgering to sip from new-blown sweets 

which blossom everywhere. 
White-winged, a solitary ship 

far out upon the sea 
Reflects the noon-day sunlight 

— soon o'erclouded, and to me 
This seems a fitting image 

of the lot I bear this day : 
Alone on life's broad ocean 

and the sunlight passed away ; 
And o'er its havenless expanse 

my bark of life must bear 
O'ershadowed by those memories 

which must ever darken there. 
Thus hope's delusive star how oft' 

in sorrow's night declines 
And to dark disappointment's shades 

our happiness consigns ; 
Yet can the image which awoke th^^ 

hope e'er die away 
Embalmed in the heart's sepulchre from 

" feeling's dull decay." 



56 



A DREAM. 



One Summer's day, beside the murmuring sea, 

Stretched on the beach, I slept, and dreamed I saw 

A noble Ship which, out upon the deep, 

Moved proudly o'er the waters toward the east. 

Calm as a mountain lake the Ocean spread 

Beneath the brightness of a noon-day sun, 

Yet it did seem as if the sultry air 

or Summer's heated hour upon its breast 

Oppressive lay, and in its mighty heart, 

Deep down, disturbed its slumbering forces, — stirred 

To restless throbbings, as its bosom swelled 

In slow pulsation, and then sank away 

In strange disquietude. Encircling, arched 

Sublimely o'er the azure vault of Heaven, 

Upon whose royal height enthroned sat 

The God of day, in dazzling glory robed. 

O'er the still depths the Ship majestic moved, 

As sportively she scattered with her prow. 

About her path — all glittering in the sun. 

Unnumbered briUiants of unnumbered hues 

Which she did gather from the emerald deep. 

While from her rolled upon the drowsy air 

A long dark line of smoke, which sought the haze 



57 

Of roseate tint, far in the glimmering distance. 

Upon her decks the " toilers of the sea," 

Sun-browned in service, each his duty sought 

While in the rigging some the useless sail 

With busy fingers folded to the yards, 

All merry hearted singing as they wrought. 

Beneath an awning shading from the sun 

Reclined the ocean voyagers, and there 

Upon the air all merrily arose 

The careless laugh — the voice of happiness, 

And busy tongues of little ones at play. 

Beauty and youth with faces bright, illumined 

With love and hope, and Age with its sweet smile 

In happiest intercourse assembled were. 

Others apart from those thus grouped about 

Sought to beguile in quicker pace away, 

The Hngering hours of the hot Summer's day 

With tales of Fancy's painting ; some o'ercome 

By its soporous breath in slumber lay, 

While here and there one o'er the bulwarks leaned 

In listless dreamings gazing o'er the wave. 

Aside were two : one Beauty's prototype 

Set in a frame of fairest loveliness ; 

The other Beauty's proud defender — Youth 

From nature's statelier, bolder model, Man. 

As silvery clouds in fleecy softness veil 

The chasteness of the virgin Summer moon, 

Her white attire in sweet abandon draped 

Her lovely form — in nameless grace composed. 

As she, rechned beside him whom she loved, 

Gave ear attent as he read to her thought ; 

Read of some sorrow, as expression told. 



S8 

Moulding her face to sweet solicitude — 
Of holy sympathy, throned in the heart, 
The superscription. So her lustrous eyes, — 
Liquidly brilliant as the glist'ning dew 
Upon the newblown, trembling violet, — 
Pearled in warm tears, did each emotion glass 
Which that sad tale awoke within her heart. 
— Perchance it traced love's fair, young life betrayed, 
Blighted by dire deceit, that worm which gnaws, 
With venomed fang, the heart whose warmth it gains 
Lurked in love's flower, by falseness planted there. 
But this was passed and like the Sun's fresh glow 
Of heat and light' when April showers are o'er, 
With a soft brightness beamed her tear-damped eyes. 
Resting on him who, ceased, in their sweet depths 
Poured from his own love's warm responsive rays. 
■«• * * -;f w * * 

The scene was changed : upon a rock-bound coast 

I stood, darkness had gathered over all 

'Gainst the dark sea high loomed the walling cliffs 

Amid the star-lit air, their towering fronts 

Stern frowning, om'nous. Warders of the Deep, 

Robed in the sombre livery of night. 

About their caverned base lamentingly. 

The troubled waters tossed, 'neath the weird wind 

Which to the night distressfully complained. 

In wild and fitful gusts. Higher it rose 

And 'neath it soon high-swelled and fiercely lashed 

The surge in angry clamor 'gainst the cliffs. 

While black impenetrable clouds rolled o'er. 

Piled mass on mass, high 'mid the thickening air, 

And quickly curtained with their darkened folds 



59 

The ebon vault of Heaven, whose paling lights 

Now in their misty caverns disappeared. 

Far distant, from its cloud-built battlement, 

Rending night's pall, the wakened Lightning pierced 

With gleaming shaft the bosom of the Deep, 

Responsive to the Storm-kings awful voice, 

Deep-swelling from afar, then opened fast 

The many portals of the walling clouds. 

Piled up the empyrean height, to passage give 

The spirits of the tempest. Issuing forth 

They, riding on the winds, did fiercely urge 

The elemental strife, most clamorous 

Where, lightning led, they ranged the watery waste, 

Which, thus illumed, its waves dark, serpertine 

Revealed high surging in encounter wild, 

Like huge Leviathans in fury met 

Fiercely contending. Now above the roar 

Of the loud Sea the deepening thunder rose — 

And died away upon the wind, then quick 

From the dark zenith of the firmament. 

In louder voice its angry mutterings broke, 

And rolling downward burst into a crash. 

Then every cloud, in emulation fierce, 

Thundered reply, rending the trembling air, 

As through the ambient darkness, inky grown. 

Each gave defiant challenge to the Night, 

And hushed the mighty roaring of the sea. 

Flaming the lightnings red-tongued licked the waves, 

Which heavenward madly reared their mammoth forms, 

Till by the Tempest struck back hurled they plunged 

With roars defiant to their surging depths. 

Out on the sea, lit by the lightnings' glare. 



6o 



— Flash following flash in wild velocity, 
A ship swept on before the Tempest's strength, 
Rose with the maddened waves, sank as they sank, 
Then in the hadean darkness disappeared. 

The fulmines of the storm were spent, though still 
The forces of the wind swept to the cliffs, 
Resistless in their might, hurling the waves. 
To fury lashed, 'gainst their black adamant, 
As if back summoned to their cavern strengths, 
Rebellious they in fierce resentment raged. 
The broken clouds now hurried o'er the sky, 
And laid their shattered masses 'neath the arch. 
Which props the southern limits of the heavens, 
Their ragged summits by the moon illumined. 
Which now released, in mellow brilliancy 
Flooded the waves — to very mountains grown. 
There laboring o'er their heights the doomed ship 
Rose, mastless, tottered on their giant crests. 
Then headlong plunged to their abysmal depths 
But rose not up again — the waves rolled o'er 
Inexorable. * * * * 

From my sleep I woke ; 
Still murmuring in the sunset lay the sea. 




e'£€/ 



63 



Tbe ©ruciftxian* 



When on the cross hung man's great Sacrifice 

Death near approached his work to execute, 

Awe-struck recoiled, in fear irresokite 
His office on his king to exercise. 
Then, bowing to his breast his head, the Christ 

Made sign to the Implacable that he, 

Without regard to right of sovereignty, 
Should claim the sacrifice at which was pric'd 
Man's sin. The)i did th' Inexorable strike — 

The fearful sun to darkness paling fled ; 

Earth trembling shrank to night's embrace; the Dead, 
E'en by that deed of their dread Prince made quick, 
Did him defy — he had forever spent 

His power in striking the Omnipotent. 



64 



W^ B^ather^ 



Remember thee, my mother ! While this breast 
Shall guard the heart which fondly pulses there 
That heart the memory of thy love — thy care, 

Proudly shall cherish, nor till life shall rest 

Cease to extol it, then but to refrain 
A little time till in that purer land, 
Far more befitting this all hallowed strain, 

Declare thy praises still. There each bright band 

Of angels Ust'ning to the theme, shall swell 
It into song and each in turn improve 
Their harps upon an equal theme, and tell 
The wondrous story of a mother's love, 

— That theme which shall the sweetest songs supply, 

As Memory prompts the heavenly minstrelsy ! 



65 



SriUtud.3* 



I do love to wander by the shore ! 

And watch the restless waters of the deep, 

As the night winds across !ts bosom sweep 

Blending their wild complainings with its roar ; 

1 love to wander through the voiceless wood 

As 'mid its depths the shadowy moonlight creeps 

Where, neath the sentrying stars, tired nature sleeps 
And Silence sits enthroned in Solitude. 
Such scenes a deep mysterious pleasure bear, 

Waking a slumbering spirit in the breast ; 

And from a sleep which knows but little rest 
To yield it raptures but experienced there. 
Where man may learn — far from the haunts of man, 

In nature's school his own defects to scan. 



66 



USIC* 



Come sacred muse naught like thy strains compose 
The longing heart nor there can charm to rest 
Sorrow's lament, Yet O ivhai peace it knows 

When thy sweet voice steals echoing through the breast. 

E'en as a bird which at the break of day 
Called by its mate, joins it and soar away 
Through purest fields of azure, circHng round 

To some bright glade where cherished fruits abound, 

My soul solicitous, at thy behest 

To thy sweet realm joyously wings its flight 
In thy embrace there ravished with delight 

Till sweetly soothed it trembles into rest. 

— All other joys the passions but control, 

'Tis thou alone hath power to reach the soul. 



67 



LicBt. 



Relentless Fate struck by thy venomed dart 

Hope quivering lies, — and palsying dost thou press 
Thy icy hand on this despairing heart 

Congealing there all — save its bitterness. 
Beneath thy scourge e'en willingly I've stood 

Nor yet complained though sore its lashes fell, 
While still hope's star illumined the solitude 

Of disappointment where thou bid me dwell. 
But now — and thou would'st bid my heart to quench 

The one sweet light which in this bosom gives 
Hope its last ray; and from my breast to wrench 

The dear idea on which alone it lives : 
I who have bowed, — nay loved thee for this bliss. 
Remorseless Fate ! can'st thou not spare me this. 



68 



Baltxies. 



Sleep bound me in the lazaret of night. 

Death, wan Despair, sightless Ambition, Lust 

There gathered in contention, 'mid the dust 
Of crumbled hopes threw for my heart. — In sight 

It lay sore bleeding, wrenched from its red seat. 
Then love, smooth-limbed, white but for heat, there came 
With eyes of palpitating fire, a living flame 

That fumed the crimson gouts to vapory heat, 
S\\'eet seeming as the warm breath of desire. 

Death, paling, fled ; the noxious crew, dismay 

Struck, livid turned and slank away; 
Love healed my heart with kisses of sweet fire 

Burned there Eternity, named it her own — 
* '^' Light 'neath my lids, — ah God ! would Death had won. 



69 



B^editatixiti. 



In that still hour when the dissolving day 
Along the sky fades tranquilly away ; 

When o'er the earth the glimmering twilight creeps 

— That drowsiness which falls e'er nature sleeps, 
In solitude — naught save the symphony 

Of ocean wakeful, still I seek thy charms. 

Where naught ignoble the glad soul alarms 
As it composed resigns itself to thee. 

Silent thou art — thy silence eloquence 
Raising the soul to its inherent life, 

Which, casting oft' its mortal instruments, 
Soars far beyond earth's narrow scene of strife. 

And led by thee views that immortal state 

In which it too shall soon participate '. 



Note. — Let me here say that the first seven Unes of the Sonnet 
"The Crucifixion," are imitated from the French of an unknown 
author of the seventeenth century. They occur in a little poem enti- 
tled " La Mort de Jesus Christ," which was found inscribed upon the 
pillars of an old church in Cherbourg, France. 



p 



D D S AND 



End 



s. 



73 



LoYE AND Dignity. 
[Ah Allegory.^ 



It was June : in a vale, as the day was declining, 

By a stream which the summer moon studded with light, 

Stately 1 )ignity walked, in the silence resigning 

His thoughts to those things which most pleasured his sight. 

Not far had he gone when he heard a deep sighing, 
Which came from a cluster of roses near by, 
And great his surprise when among them espying 
The Httle God Cupid, who'd uttered the sigh. 

On his arm he reclined, with a rose in his fingers, 
From which he was plucking its leaflets away. 
While, as a bright star on a cloud's summit Hngers, 
A tremulous tear on his dark lashes lay. 

" And what has disturbed you ? " asked Dignity kindly. 
Cupid started and fluttered his wings in dismay, 
But feared, in the presence he found himself, blindly 
To follow his feelings and scamper away. 

He made no reply, simply pointed before him 

To an arrow all shattered, the source of his woe. 

As he bit those sweet lips for which women adore him, 

And patted his bare Httle leg with his bow. 



74 

" Indeed, and is that it? Just as I expected. 

It would seem you've not done as instructed." "Tis true. 

" Precisely, now had you done as I directed — " 

" You would say, I'd not had this misfortune to rue." 

"This once," Love continued, "good Dignity, spare me," 
Looking up in his face with a suppliant smile, 
" Just come here to-morrow at this hour, and hear me 
Recount my success with my Beauty meanwhile." 

" Most gladly I will ; then good-night, — but remember T 
"■ Never fear," Love repHed, as he mounted in flight, 
With his wings rustling, soft as leaves fanned by a zephyr. 
He rose on a moon-beam, and passed out of sight. 

Next eve to the spot, ere the Sun had ceased shining, 
Came Dignity, — 'twas one he long had loved best, — 
And there, on a bed of chaste blossoms reclining. 
He beheld Beauty, fondling a rose on her breast. 

Quick, with rapturing pulsation, his heart beat, but hearing 
A sound as of Love's half suppressed voice near by. 
He concealed his emotion; then to her appearing. 
He approached, as upon him she smiled graciously. 

Love had led her hither ; and now, near her hiding, 
'Mid the blossomed-flaked foliage, as Dignity came, 
He sped a bright arrowed, flame-tipped, which dividing 
His heart, kindled there its wild, exquisite flame. 

Thus struck, beside Beauty he fell, — to her pleaded 
To draw from his bosom the still flaming dart ; 



75 

She, while soothing the wound, saw but Love e'er could 

heal it, 
The arrow was buried so deep in his heart ! 

Then, in flight, Cupid cried, " Dignity, I regret I 
Have missed you, as now I've no time to wait, for 
My quiver is empty; I did not forget you, 
Believe me ; good-night, I am off to get more — 

Then his voice, having waked Philomel, 'neath her numbers 

Swelling soft in response, melted faintly away, 

While the flowers his warm wings had kissed from their 

slumbers. 
On the yet wooing sunbeams, spent their sweets wantonly. 

— Soon 'twas clear, from the manner of Beauty in pressing 
Her hand 'gainst her breast, quickly palpitating. 
Love had there sent an arrow ; — the rogue when professing 
His quiver empty, had his darts 'neath his wing ! 



76 



yViusic AND Memory. 



Music once wandering through the heart, 

As daylight died away, 
Found Memory sleeping by a tomb 

Fast falling to decay. 

Whispering, she touched the slumberer, 

Soft as the pale moon-beam 
The folded flower, then passed away 

As vanishes a dream. 

Memory awoke, and listening heard 

The rustling wings go by. 
Then weeping viewed where she had slept 

And O, how bitterly ! 

But ah, those tears were sacred, 

And the flowers which there drooped lay, 
Beneath their sweet refreshment bloomed 

And beautified decay. 

And now no greener spot is there. 

For Memory loves to twine 
The richest verdure of the heart 

Around that sacred shrine. 



77 



Lines 



IVritten upon visiting the National Cemetery^ Arlington^ 
Va , where are buried the remains of 40,000 Union soldiers, 
their graves for the most part being marked by a plaiix 
jvhite board, many of which bear the simple inscription " Un- 
known soldier r 

To those who "have some friend or brother there." 



Ye patriot dead! o'er your sleep of devotion 

Shines the meteor of conquest, while wrapped in death's 
night 
Ye rest by that stream — winding down to the ocean, 

Which beheld ye go forth in the pride of your might. 

Bright that meteor illumines the shades which enfold ye, 
Reflecting your glory — which brightens its ray — 

In the hearts which forever with pride shall behold ye 
Through ages to come, as through years passed away. 

And can it then be that ^'unknown'' ye are sleeping 
By the scenes of your glory, so valiantly trod ; 

Can a nation forget that the fruits she is reaping 
Were sown with your lives and refreshed with your bio od f 



78 

Ye are known : by the hearts which your absence sore 
rending, 

Your valor remembering their anguish consumes ; 
By the tears of a Nation which o'er ye descending 

Refresh the sweet flowers which wave o'er your tombs. 

Thus not here where the bleak wind in rude lamentation 

Complainingly wanders amid the sad pine 
Are ye tombed, but your graves the ivarm hearts of a nation, 

Where evergreen blooming love's memories twine. 

No more shall the thunder of battle elate ye ; 

No more shall the trumpet of victory thrill, 
Till the last trumpet's sound which forever shall wake ye 

To herald ye onward to victory still 



79 



A Vision 



A fragment of a projected allegorical poem '-''Love 
and Wealthy 



" J'etais seul pres desflots pas un nuage auz cieux, sur les mers pas de 
voiles, mes yeux plongeaient plus loin que le monde reel " 

— Victor Hugo. 

I had a dream wherein it seemed to me 

I stood alone at daybreak, by a sea 

Amid whose waves I saw an island rise 

— A gem of beauty, 'gainst the azure skies 

But little off, and though around me seemed 

Night's shadows still, a heavenly brightness beamed 

Upon the isle. From its luxuriant shade 

Sloped to the wave a strand, of crystals made ; 

— A radiant belt of scintillating light 

Which richly sparkled, as faded the night 

Along the sea, and as I gazed methought 

I was translated to this beauteous spot. 

On a hill-side I stood bedecked in blue 

Of violets glist'ning 'neath pearly dew. 

As the light dawning o'er a flowery rise 

With softest shade tinted the lilac skies. 

Now gilding the dense foliage of the spot 

The risen sun resplendent glory brought, 



8o 

As stately palms put on their richest hue 

And hidden flowers broke upon the view, 

Waked by the breeze which, fraught with spicy scent. 

With babbUng streamlets murmured of content, 

While countless songsters decked in varied ceats 

Greeted each other with their mellow notes. 

Of former scenes I seemed to have no thought 

— Scarce a remembrance, as entranced I sought 

With wandering step each scene with beauty spread ) 

Of hill and dale in richest verdure clad, |- 

Where floral sweets and fruits luxuriant swayed; ) 

Now crossing gurgling brooks of purest run 

Which sweetly caroled in the wondrous sun ; 

Now lost 'mid groves of royal fruits ne'er told 

— Entranced, bewildered at this scene of gold. 

I now beheld a spot more perfect yet, 

— If e'er perfection with itself hath met, 

It rose from out a plain with gentle slope, 

A mount of blossoms to its palm- crowned top, 

O'er-ranged with shades with floral wreaths entwined. 

Cradling their foliage on the fragrant wind. 

Toward this I turned that from its bright ascent 

I might survey its summit and extent, 

From which — soon reached, I viewed the landscape o'er 

On either side ; from further shore to shore. 

And thence beheld, o'er many a verdured rise, 

The waters stretch to meet the arching skies, 

As toward the isle the restless billows rolled, 

Their tossing crests enfringed with tints of gold, 

From the decHning sun, which now to sleep 

In wearied splendor sank into the deep. 



8i 

But the bright moon far up the eastern height 

Dispelled the shades of the attendant night, 

As thick and fast her silvery arrows flew 

Piercing the foliage, while her brightness threw 

Light upon all around, and now revealed 

A lake before by its rich shades concealed. 

In a still vale it slept sentried around 

By wooded hills, and sweetly came the sound 

Of falling water from the wandering rills 

Which left their course among the neighboring hills 

To seek its placid bosom. 

Now reclined 
Near the lake's edge exhausted I resigned 
Myself to sleep. I had not thus remained 
A moment seemingly but had regained 
My strength anew, when suddenly I woke 
As on my ear the sound of footsteps broke, 
And in the foliage which about me grew 
I saw a figure disappear from view. 
Breathless I listened, but there came no sound 
Save the soft gurgling of the falls beyond 
Bright in the moonlight, — then sweet symphonies 
Of music rose and died upon the breeze. 

Then by the light of the full risen moon 
I saw beneath me drawn up from the tide 
A little bark from purest coral hewn 
Of an exquisite model, from its side 
A silver oar, most delicately made, 
Drooped in the wave all dripping as it lay, 
And tiny footsteps which the sand displayed 
Declared its mistress was not far away. 



82 



Quick to my feet I sprang for there, O Venus ! 

What a transporting sight ravished my eyes, 

A being not unHke our native genus, 

— As far as known from our authorities — 

Before me stood, in dress not here the fashion, 

A habitante of this enchanted clime, 

Yet as it proved this most seductive passion, 

In her gave place to one far more sublime. 

Her feet in ribboned sandals were attired 
And — let me see, she wore her dignity 
Though to be brief her dress could be admired 
For nothing but its strict ecoiwfuy. 
Liquidly brilliant were her lustrous eyes 
Like donna JuHa's of Byronic fame, 
Reflecting those mysterious sympathies 
Love calls to life and else can ne'er proclaim. 

Her wealth of hair was rolled into a — 
I scarcely know its delicate technique, 
Let each one name it what they will, I wist 
A goodly number know of what I speak — 
And there was born in her sweet eyes a soul 
Which she bequeathed me and I lived anew. 
And when she sweetly smiled, with full control 
That second life to full perfection grew. 

She leaned against her little craft which hid 
Its coral tint in the delicious glow 
Of her soft charms, and as the bright moon shed 
Its flood of brilliancy on her fair brow 



83 

And in its chrismal shower bathed her sweet form, 
Raptured I stood. Then in a voice which spoke 
Enchantment, and sweet peace unto the storm 
Within my breast, thus she the silence broke : 

" Know'st thou this land, or hast thou ne'er before 
Explored its sweets — its ever cloudless skies ; 
Ne'er known the pleasures of yon further shore 
Where now thou hear'st those strains of music rise 
Upon the fragrant air ? thence have I come, 
\Vhere yonder lights are flashing o'er the scene, 
'Tis my abode and the luxurious home 
Of mirth and pleasure — I alone its queen." 

" Goddess of love," I spoke, approached a pace, 
— '• And then you know me," quickly she replied, 
'' Ah beauteous queen, who may behold thy face 
Nor know 'tis love and beauty glorified. 
This is thy land, fair Venus — this bright sphere 
The land of Love and yonder restless sea 
The sea of Time; these symphonies I hear 
The joyous sounds of love's glad minstrelsy." 

" Well pleased am I to see thee thus display 
A knowledge of this land not all j^ossess, 
And oft' possessing blindly turn away 
To yonder isles adjacent. — Happiness 
Foregoing for the gain they madly weigh 
Against this wealth which man alone can bless, 
And for the joy they vainly hope t' attain 
Renounce a peace they ne'er can know again," 



84 

" Such are the isles of worldly avarice 
Where pomp is life and gold man's only aim, 
How all excelling this true happiness, 
Where life is love — love that celestial flame 
Which on the height of great Olympus is 
That living fire — of heaven the light supreme, 
Which daring mortal pillaged from the sky, 
Revealing to man the secret of Heaven's joy. 

Wealth boasting all no happiness can shed 
Where love is not, but is a nothingness ; 
A lifeless frame from which the soul is fled ; 
A death which hath a form of loveliness, 
Like yon pale orb so brilliant yet all dead 
Where silence broods in each dark bleak recess 
Radiant it shines all dazzling to behold ; 
A sight of beauty but how deathly cold ! " 



85 



OUAND M.EM.E. 



How shall I paint thy beauties ; how relate 
Thy virtues ? words to compass them so fail ; 
Thy graces — to the cadence of thy feet, 
Make cunning Speech its poverty reveal ! 
No, this, rude herald, shall not desecrate 
The temple of thy form ; the graces tell 
Of its fair Priestess, matchless ! — 'twould but be 
To subject them t' rude incredulity ! 

I will not say celestial music's strain 

More richly pours since I have known thy love ; 
I will not say fair Dian with her train 

Of stars refulgent in their course above 
Now brighter shine ; and yet each sweet refrain 

Harmonious ; yon bright orbs — all things now prove 
Sources of joy undreamt, and to love yield 
Rich springs of beauty ne'er before revealed. 

So, as the rising moon with her chaste light 
Doth robe the stars in a new brilHancy, 

Raising all sunk in darkness by the night 
To know the glory of her majesty : 

Now shall thy love impart a new deHght 
To every joy, and life's ambitions be 



86 

Exalted to a holier aim, a?id yet, 

— Nay, thy sweet eyes rebuke that ihowght— forget. 

E'er thus to sight^ as thought, doth love impart, 
By its mysterious force, higher virtue 

Supernal, giving all things to the heart, 
By vision there revealed, an aspect new ; 

Clothed in fresh beauty all ; beauty no art 
Hath cunning to resolve, while that we knew 

Before as happiness now doth but seem 

Like pleasures waking buries in a dream ! 

Thou hast e'en waked me ; changed to purest day 
The darkness of the past — appearing now 
How dark ! as bathed in this new brilliancy 
A World of beauty burst upon the view ! 
And circling round, as doth the earth the sky. 
Love doth encompass this creation new. 
Of which thou art the Queen, as I would be — 
Nay, thou hast crowned me Consort unto thee ! 

Through the soft night, star-studded, of thine eyes, 
As in the clouds where silent lightnings play, 
Proudly I watch love's sacred fires arise 
From the altar thy heart hath built to me, 
And there shall love joyously sacrifice 
That self'it hath bound captive, for to thee. 
Who hath enthroned its power in my breast, 
'Twould consecrate the Hfe thou thus hast blest. 



87 



j^ D 



I E U 



Adieu but not farewell — ah could we know 

The night which waits on that wild word, 'twould seem 

Adieu were but a passing cloud — a dream 

A momentary darkness but to show 

How clear the light succeeding. Thus we deem 

Love e'en may borrow shadows to display, 

When drawn the veil, how bright that rarest gem. 

In its rich tiara, pure confidence, 

Does gUtter in its jewelled diadem, 

With hope's bright ray — twin meteors which dispense 

Within the soul their beams of heavenly day, 

Where angel hands have rolled the stone away. 

Sweet love, adieu, when thou when I am gone 
With memory seek'st each love-remembered spot, 
Start not if when thou deem'st thyself alone 
A presence name thee, thou thou see'st it not. 

Its fond, sad voice shall breathe to thee of him 
Whose heart, from thee, can know no pulse of joy ; 
And when thou hear'st do thou return love's name 
And it shall make thee answer it is L 



88 

For as the spirit of the stars invest 

The bosom of the ever wakeful sea, 
Though far removed, so shall love's spirit rest 

By its dear shrine, though I am far from thee. 

And when thou view'st these warders of the night 
With their watch-fires illume the quiet sky, 
Bethink thee that those fires changelessly bright, 
Image the love this bosom bears for thee. • 

There is a cord deep lying in the heart 
Which ne'er responds save to the spirit thrill 
Love's absence wakes, — yet O what sad, sweet strains 
In that awakening do the bosom fill. 

Amid the inner chambers of the soul 

Its sad- "divinely plaintive, harmonies 
Echoing steal till 'neath their sweet control 

The longing heart in quiet rapture lies. 

Now to thy voice, by gracious Fancy brought, 
Vibrates that cord within this anxious heart, 

And wakes a joy with such sweet sorrow fraught 
That joy were less were sorrow to depart. 

So, absent, would I wake, in thy sweet breast 

A pulse for each which thrills this heart of mine ; 

That heart which deems itself, how richly blest 
When e'er it brings one happiness to thine. 

Remember me — let not the lamp of thought 

Which lights the shrine that holds my image fail ; 
And in thy prayers do thou neglect it not 
— E'en there its beams celestial shall prevail. 



89 

Remember thee ! and wither may /fly 

And find thy image from my bosom riven ; 
Thy dear idea attends where'er I be, 
— E'en in my prayers it leads my thoughts from Heaven. 

Yet once again, sweet Love, remember me 

As one whose soul makes thee its one idol ; 
And O, how deep that soul's offence must be 
If 'tis a crime on earth to love too well 

Good-night, farewell ; farewell, ah, how doth love 

Against that word, next feared to death^ rebel \ 
Nay, more than death that to this heart should prove, 
And death thrice sweet the hour that \txmg^ farewell. 



Tn Memoriam. 

I stood alone on the pebbled beach 

As the moon rose over the sea, 

And the doleful break of the restless waves 

Brought sad memories to me. 

I saw o'er the path which the moon-beams traced 
A ship pass into the night : 
Though it hurried by ere I 'd viewed it well, 
I can never forget that sight. 

E'en thus, I thought, on life's path appear 
Sweet faces a moment seen, 
Then dead to us : — a grave in the heart 
Which memory keeps ever green. 



90 



yHE MoOi 



Thou orb sublime ! that from the boundless sky 
Dost move the sombre shadows of the night, 

To flood the world in mellow brilliancy, 
That calmly soothes yet ravishes the sight. 

Now as thy beams invade my chamber's gloom 
And slowly wake the slumbering shadows there, 

What drear abodes of misery they illume 
Where all is fled save anguish and despair ; 

What thoughts disturb the lonely convict's heart, 
As now he views thee from his ironed cell, 

Of childhood's scenes — of cherished hopes depart, 
Which he remembers — ah, too sadly well. 

He feels thy beams, which now his prison search. 
Look on a scene which memory weeps to trace : 

— A lowly grave behind the village church 
Of her who sank beneath a child's disgrace. 

What great variety of scenes untold 

Hast thou beheld — what mighty empires sway, 

As through unnumbered ages thou hast rolled 

As now thou roU'st unchanged, — yet where are they ; 



91 

Where now is haughty Babylonia's might 
Which madly dared Omnipotence deride ? 

— For thou hast too illumined her guilty site 
As now the plain which sepulchres her pride. 

So shall thy beams before another sun 
Look on the walls of crumbling Pompeii, 

And from the heights of silent Lebanon 
Flood the still waves of holy Galilee. 

Infinite theme, — O thrice infinite God ! 

Whose hand directs e'en as his hand hath made, 
Who shall presume to limit his abode 

Or count the wonders of his works displayed ? 

— Adieu sweet moon, fast fading from the sight. 
Low in the west, — Yet once again good night. 



Church J^itany. 

( Versified.) 



O God the King of Heaven thou ! 
Before thy throne we sinners bow, 
Our sins with mercy look upon 
For Jesu's sake thine only Son. 

O God the Son, Redeemer we 
Unworthy sinners look to thee ; 
Thy mercy — thou once sorrow knew, 
To us most miserable show. 

O God, Great Spirit, Holy One ! 
Proceeding from the Father Son, 
In prayer our souls we lift to Thee 
To us a strong defender be. 

O Father, Son, and Spirit three 
One blest and glorious Trinity ! 
Look down in mercy as we bend, 
To us thy timely succor lend. 



93 

Remember not, O Gracious God ! 
Our paths nor those our fathers trod, 
Spare us, by thy most precious blood ; 
O, spare us from thy vengeful flood. 

From evil mischief and all sin ; 
From Satan's crafts without, within; 
From thy just wrath, eternal night 
Protect us by thy Mercy's might. 

By Thy Holy Incarnation ; 
Thy baptism, fast, temptation ; 
By Thy memory of Thy birth ; 
By Thy agony of earth ; 

By Thy pain, Thy bloody sweat ; 
By Thy cross — Thy Passion, death ; 
By Thy dread sepulchral sleep ; 
By Thy love — Thy mercy deep. 

By Thy Resurrection shown; 
Thy Ascension to Thy Throne ; 
By Thy Holy Spirit's sway, 
O Christ, deliver us, we pray. 

When tossed upon life's troubled sea ; 
In all the world's prosperity ; 
In death's dark hour — the Judgment Day. 
O Christ ! deliver us, we pray. 



94 

That it may please Thee in Thy love 
Our Sovereign's heart to wisdom move ; 
May she in Jesu's strength put on 
Affiance have in Thee alone. 

Thou Heaven's enthroned whose blood was shed 
That we might live though Thou wert dead, 
Suffer us not in life's last breath 
To sink to an eternal death. 

O Lamb of God I how dark the night, 
Which Thine own love hath made so bright ; 
Through life, in death be thou the way 
Which leads us to eternal day. 



Sweet ]^lowei\. 



Sweet flower and must thy beauty fade 
Though born but yesterday ; 

Scarce one short day of life, and now 
Thou hasten'st to decay ? " 

True, brief is my abiding here " 
Replied the flower, " and yet 

If Earth be sweeter for my Hfe 
I know not of regret." 



95 



To My Bird. 



Who fashioned thy exquisite symmetry 
Thou httle elf of song ; thou paragon 
Of grace, what wondrous cunning artisan 

The fabric wove of thy chaste livery ? 



What hand the delicate machinery cast 

Which thus thy wings so marvelously propel ; 

Wlio in thy tiny frame its forces placed, 
And made them thus obedient to thy will ? 



What hast thou in that little throat of thine 
Which trills such notes of dulcet purity ; 

Who taught thee thus in minstrelsy divine 
To pour thy song in rhythmic harmony ? 



Perchance it was, in thine own native shades, 
The purling brook, the voices of the woods^ 

Where now thy fellows in the flowery glades 
Awake to song the island solitudes. 



96 

But these thou ne'er hast known, — then 'twas thy sire 
Tuned thy sweet voice ? — nay, loud thy numbers tell, 

In praises rising softly, sweetly higher, 

'Twas nature's God that fashioned thee so well. 



Would I could tell thee how I love thy song ; 

How dear to me, my pretty one, thou art : 
Why dost thou fly me ? — I but fondly long 

With kindliest hand to lay thee to my heart. 



How happily would'st thou He upon this breast 

Did'st thou but know how warms my heart to thee. 

Yet nestling there, in thy sweet eyes' unrest 
Pained I behold thou 'dst gladly fly from me. 



Thou can'st not understand by words I know, 
But love hath many voices and for thee 

Nature has surely purposed one, and so 

T am content that Time should teach it me. 



97 



f. f 



RAGMENT. 



In death thou sleep'st, thrice blest immunity ! 

Life's ills to change for immortality ; 

A stranger here, thy soul in glad release 

Has sought the regions of eternal peace. 

What though thy dust supports the lowly sod 

— Earth's final task, — thy soul is with thy God ; 

Though cold and dark may seem thy earthly bed, 

It holds but dust, thy ransomed spirit fled 

To those bright shores where, welcomed by the bless'd, 

It knows the fullness of its Saviour's rest. 

Herein where death aspires to victory, 

It gives the soul a perfect liberty — 

The grave, which e'er to crush the soul has striven, 

Proving the portal to the courts of heaven. 

Spring comes again, but what to thee is spring ? 

Thou may'st not hear the birds which o'er thee sing, 

Nor see the flowers which come from thy decay 

Bedeck thy tomb, and thus their debt repay. 

The sentrying pines sigh in the night wind's gust, 

Spreading their roots to mingle with thy dust, 

Seeming to chant thy slumber's lullaby, 

Yet wherefore this ? thou sleep'st unwakingly. 

Until the morning of tlie resurrection break, 

When death itself shall sleep, no more to wake ! 



98 



h Thought. 



I watched a rose in Autumn drop away, 
Its crimson richness leaf by leaflet fade, 

And sadly gazing thought may thus decay 
Such beauty bear to its unwholesome shade ? 

I sought in vain the glisten of the dew 

Upon .the blossoms, on the verdured lawn : 

Shivering the flowers their leaflets closer drew 
'Neath the chill breath of the October dawn. 

The spirit of the flower, the fire, methought, 
Which kindles in the dew thus fled must pass 

To some bright sphere, and straight my Fancy sought 
To trace a spot worthy such loveliness. 

To PhosphorJ floating in her sea of light, 
An isle of glory ; to the enchanted sphere 

Arched by the Iris ; to each star its flight 
Did fancy wing — successless voyager ! 



X The Morning Star. 



99 

I stood amid a scene of festal joy 

Dazzlingly bright, sweet music wooed the air, 
And cradled in its soft embrace Beauty 

Which trembled to behold itself so fair. 

Then love exulting crifed : " that fit repose 
By Fancy sought e'en here all radiant view : 

In Beauty's cheek immortal blooms the rose ; 
In Beauty's eyes the fires born in the dew ! " 



lOO 



I^OVE IN ^BSENCE. 



En el amor la auscencia es como el aire, que apaga el fuego chico e 
enciende el grande. — Spanish proverb. 

A little fire 

Does soon expire 
'Neath the wind's agitation, 

While 'neath the same 

A greater flame 
Becomes a conflagration. 

And so in love 

Does absence prove 
— A little fire o'erturning ; 

But when the breast 

Love's flames invest 
It sets them wildly burning. 



lOI 



Lines in an Album 



As oft' beneath the churchyard's quiet shade 

We wander musing at the close of day, 
And mark the sadd'ning records telling there 
Of fondest friendships which have passed away : 
So in life's evening when thine eyes shall stray 
Amid these pages, to thy memory dear, 
Know thou this leaf rests iji memoriatn 
To friendship's tribute which I offer here. 

THE SAME. 

Far in the aftertime when years have fled 

And thou dost weep o'er cherished friendships dead, 

O may thy tears refresh that sacred spot 

Where fading droops the sweet "forget-me-not." 

THE SAME. 

Spotless this page where now my verse I place 
— The purer record of thy life e'en thus : 

Would that as here Friendship I fondly trace, 
I there might grave Utifading happiness. 



THE SAME. 

Dear girl of all the darling flowers 

That bloom along the way, 
Beneath thy love which makes their life 

Thine eyes which make their day, 
Turn in some moments to regard 

In this secluded spot 
The leaf I offer friendship here 

From the forget-me-not. 

THE SAME. 

When nature wakes or slumbers ; 
When distant far from thee, 
Among remembered numbers 
Ne m'oubhez pas, je prie. 



MI 



TAXED FROM. THE jpRENCH, 



If thou would'st love one whom I love, 

Thyself must thou adore. 
How deeply, would that I might prove 

To thee, — love could no more. 



I03 



I^OYE TO THE jVilF^I\OI\ 



Since all my darts in vain assail her breast, 
Show thou to her the charms for which I sigh, 

That wooed thy beauty she entranced may gaze 
And, like Narcissus, self- enamored die. 



-p^ p I G R A M s, 



His last debt he has paid — poor Clark 's no more- 
Last debt : pray when did he pay one before ? 



Melissa says she hates a flatterer — 
'twould seem, 
Then I am wrong in charging her 
with self-esteem ! 



04 



RIENDSHIP. 



»How sweet to find the heart by Friendship proved, 
Through years of absence still remain unnKjved ; 
To find the shades of changeful years have ne'er 
Shadowed the image love enshrined there. 

Thus o'er the ever widening stream of Time ; 
From on the shore of some far distant clime, 
How sweet to hear those voices loved before, 
Call on our name from off the further shore. 

And oh how sweet when friendships all have liown, 
To find one heart we still can call our own : 
'Tis sure the Angels here the stone unroll, 
So heavenly bright the beams which flood the soul. 



I05 



When- ]^irst ] J\1et Jhee. 



When first J met thee I had thought 

Love from my heart his flight had ta'en ; 

Nor dreamed he there had hidden aught 
To tempt him to return again. 

But ah ! thy starry eyes illumed 
My heart's inmost recesses, where 

The sweetest flowers profusely bloomed 
Which I had never dreamt were there. 

Love's choicest sweets — they ne'er had known 
The hght of other eyes than thine ; 

With which chaste offerings all thine own, 
He bids me yield this heart of mine. 

For now a little despot he, 

'Mid richest blooms, there reigns supreme, 
And wakes to song sweet Poesie, 

Who joyous syllables thy name. 

Then fairest one, that I may live 

To know these sweets revealed by thee. 

Return the heart I freely give, 

And yield thine own in turn to me. 



:o6 



?o 



N G 



Sweet bird of spring, I greet thee 
Though thou sorrow bring'st to me, 
As glad as are the numbers 
Of thy sweet minstrelsy ; 
Thy presence wakes sad memories 
Of the love I lost with thee, 
Till I scarce can bear the anguish 
Of the thoughts that rise in me. 

With thee, the flowers gray Autumn 
Laid in Earth's snow-white breast 
Return, but he may ne'er come back 
Whom / laid there to rest ; 
And so, e'en to thy happy song — 
Too brief for joy before, . 
Must sorrow's voice within my heart 
Lament forevermore. 



I07 



To f^ELlSE, 



I love to look into thine eyes, 
The windows of the soul, 
Where scintillate in lettered light 
Sweet truths words ne'er control. 

I love to look into thine eyes 
— Sweet springs which sparkling o'er 
Life's arid plain, a verdure bring 
There never known before. 

I love to look into thine eyes, 
Where virtues mirrored are ; 
Virtues which modesty would hide 
By truth revealed there. 



Errata Typographica : — 







No. of 








Page 


Line 


word 


Reads 


Should be 




6 


28 


5 


languid 


liquid 




7 


6 


5 


freshing 


fresh <?;/ing 




14 


I 


5 


staggering 


struggling 




16 


18 


2 


wonderi- 


Wonder 




19 


19 


8 


vision 


vision^-. 




24 


29 


3 


through 


though 




25 


3 


5 


that 


\\\en 




26 


I 


6 


breast 


brea h 




26 


13 


3 


of 


a hyphen. 




27 


4 


6 


was 


is 




30 


7 


last 


sidej- 


side. 




34 


16 


5 


too 


to 




34 


30 


2 


pressed 


pressej- 





For lines 6 to 10, division vii, page 27, please substitute 
the following : 

Till winding 'twixt a chasmed rock, it seemed 
To seek repose 'neath the o'ershadowing height, — 
Whose frowning brow repelled the soft moonlight- 
As some great serpent drags its weary length 
Into the darkness of its cavern-strength ! 



